


I Want To Wake Up Where You Are

by ladymac111



Series: copper [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:19:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 56,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymac111/pseuds/ladymac111
Summary: Pidge and Hunk are about to graduate with the Class of 2006, and eager to continue their new romance in college.But life after high school is more complicated than they expected, and incomplete plans lead to unwelcome complications.  What will happen when their relationship stops being easy?





	1. Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> Direct sequel to [Senior Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11788695)
> 
> [Official playlist on Spotify (may contain spoilers)](https://open.spotify.com/user/129963216/playlist/0fSorUhIZiDTb372Xek6Rt)
> 
> [Long mood playlist on Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/129963216/playlist/3wRHAoITaDSoBO3LdlPECZ)
> 
> New feature! If you don't want to read the smut, click the aleph א when you get to it and AO3 will skip you to when it's (mostly) SFW again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kiss Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8N-qO3sPMjc)

_Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight_  
_Lead me out on the moonlit floor_  
_Lift your open hand_  
_Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance,_  
_Silver moon sparkling  
So kiss me_

 

 

_October_

 

It seemed like half the band was already at Keith’s house -- or at least they were all in the back yard when Hunk followed the paper lanterns and spooky soundtrack down the path around the side of the house.

Lance spotted him immediately, and gave him a wave before he pushed past the knot of sophomores who stood between them.  The underclassmen didn’t seem to be dressed up, but Lance was in a rather elaborate pirate costume, complete with an eye patch and a stuffed parrot stuck to his shoulder.

“Hey man,” Hunk said, accepting a high five.  “Or, should I say _arrrr?_ ”

Lance laughed, and make a hook with one finger.  “Arrrr, matey.  Where be Pidge?”

“She was gonna meet me here, I’m sure she won’t be long.  She _loves_ Halloween parties.”

“Yeah, I know she won’t miss it, it’s just you guys usually show up to things together.  Anyway, let me get you a soda.  My job is making sure nobody goes thirsty.”

Hunk followed him over towards the house.  “How did you get saddled with a job?  You’re not on the band board.”

“This isn’t an official band event, but I guess I’m unofficially on the board since I’m the clicker.  And you know Keith.”

“Giving you a job anyway seems more like Allura.”

Lance groaned.  “Both of them, I swear to god!”  He pulled the red cooler open.  “What do you like?”

Hunk reached in and grabbed a can of white soda, though he sort of regretted it because the inside of the cooler was freezing and the ambient late-October air wasn’t much warmer.  “Thanks.”

Lance kicked the cooler shut with one flamboyant pirate boot.  “So, make fun of me if you have to, but what are you dressed as?”

Hunk spread his arms, gesturing at himself.  “For real?  I’m Han Solo.”

“God, of course.”

“Seriously, dude?”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

A figure in white appeared where the path met the back yard, catching Hunk’s attention.  “Oh, she’s here!”

Lance turned around but Hunk was away before he could say anything, cutting through the crowd to greet her.  She beamed at him, and she looked every inch a princess.  “Hey,” he said -- not the snappiest of greetings, but she took his hand.

“Hey, you scruffy-looking nerf-herder.  Been here long?”

“Just a minute.  I’m surprised I beat you.”

“Yeah, well it took a bit to get my wig on right.”  She gingerly touched one of the buns on the side of her head.  “Does it look okay?  I was afraid I knocked it getting out of the car.”

“It looks amazing.”  He bent down and gave her a gentle kiss.  “Did you bring a car?”

“No, Dad dropped me off. We’re still on for your place tonight?”

Hunk’s heart did a little dance in his chest.  It had only been two weeks since they’d had their first kiss, and although she’d stayed over that night, they hadn’t had an opportunity since.  And now that kissing was a thing they did, getting to spend the entire night with her in his arms was often the only thing on his mind.  Not because he thought they were going to have sex tonight, though of course it had occurred to him; they weren’t ready to take that step yet.  But the kissing and cuddling was really magnificent.  Being in love with her was the best thing that had ever happened to their friendship, in Hunk’s considered opinion.  “Yeah.  I mean, if you’re still up for it.”

“Of course I am,” she said, smiling in a sort of shy way.  “More than ever, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”  He kissed her again, and she stretched up to make it linger a moment longer when he pulled away.

“You taste like soda,” she said.

He held up his can.  “Want one?  I bet you can make Lance fish it out of the cooler for you, I about froze my fingers off.”

She laughed, and took it from him before taking a sip.  “I can share yours.  At least until I need caffeine.”

He took the can back, and had a moment of realizing how absolutely smitten he was with her in this moment.  Not that he hadn’t been completely smitten with her for like a year already, but tonight, she looked especially lovely and he finally knew that she was his _girlfriend_ and that did something extra.

He knew how Han Solo felt about Leia.  You just … you do anything she asks.

He followed a step behind her as she waded into the party, greeting friends as she went. He would follow her all night and it would be perfect.

 

It was probably almost midnight by the time the vibe of the party began abruptly to change, from an energetic shindig to a deep, sultry night of the dead.  The candles outside had burned out, so the last few people who had been bearing the cold moved inside while the last of the younger kids headed home.  Allura went around re-lighting the indoor candles and the music seemed to get louder, while the remaining couple of dozen people clumped together in small groups, many of them gathered around _Young Frankenstein_ on the big flat-screen.  Allura joined Lance and Keith on the couch when she was done with the candles, which Pidge took as her signal that she could get some alone time with Hunk while their friends were occupied with each other.

She took his hand, and he followed her to the kitchen, where the trio of junior trumpet players were gathered around the punch bowl playing with a lighter.  But they didn’t look at the couple, so Pidge pulled Hunk into the little window seat in the breakfast nook, illuminated only by the pair of pillar candles on the table.  He immediately slid his hands around her waist and gathered her into a kiss.

The fabric of her dress was thin enough that she’d been quite cold outside, but now indoors she could feel the heat of Hunk’s hands distinctly through it.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed into his touch.

His breath caught for a moment.  “You’re not wearing a bra.”

She let out a breathy giggle.  “Nope.”

“Any particular reason?”

“No bras in space.  George Lucas said so.”

Hunk leaned back and rolled his eyes with a smile.  “Of course.”

She pulled him back down and kissed him again.  “Also I thought you might like it.”

His hand brushed the side of her boob.  “Can I?  Right here?”

“Yeah.  Nobody’s watching.”

So he cupped her breast, caressing, and made a low moan in his throat that vibrated all the way through her.  She opened her mouth against his, letting his tongue slide against hers and set the vibration resonating even stronger.

He shifted forward then, pushing her closer to the wall, crowding her just a little.  Their legs were starting to get in the way, and she spread hers as best she could, one knee up on the seat and her other draping over the side of his thigh.  It was the first time she’d spread her legs like this while he kissed her and it was tremendously thrilling, suggesting _that_ while he felt her up and kissed her like he needed her to live.

Maybe it was the hour, or the mood lighting, or the wild amount of sugar she’d eaten -- but she wanted him so, _so_ badly.  The touch of his hands on her breasts was even more pleasurable than she’d imagined, and she really wanted to touch him too, but she also didn’t want to go quite that far in a place that was technically public.  Even if those trumpets were completely engrossed in their ability to make fire.

But she couldn’t think about the guys by the punch bowl for more than a few seconds, because Hunk’s lips were very, very good at what they were doing.  God, she loved kissing him.  How he opened his mouth, closed it again and caressed her, moved his attention from her lower lip to her upper lip, opened his mouth again -- just a little -- and nibbled on her a tiny bit.  When he did that she got so excited she couldn’t quite control herself, and bit him a little bit, right in the middle of his full lower lip.

He gasped softly, startled, and then surged into her, sliding one hand around her back while the other stayed on her breast, squeezing a little more firmly.  He really seemed to like that.  Not like she’d expected anything different, but the knowing was still nice.

“ _Hand check!_ ”

The back of Pidge’s head banged against the wall, in the same instant as Hunk’s body heat abruptly disappeared.  “What the fuck?”  She was disoriented, her voice too loud, but after a moment she managed to focus her eyes on Allura, standing on the other side of the table with her arms crossed and a pleased smirk on her lips.

“Having fun?”

“Why would you _do_ that?” Pidge said, sitting up a little and gingerly touching the back of her head.  She glanced at Hunk, who looked distinctly uncomfortable, and very much like he was trying to conceal a boner.

“Keith’s parents don’t want anyone making babies in their kitchen,” Allura said.  God, becoming a drum major had made her completely insufferable.

“We’re fully clothed,” Pidge said, actually annoyed now.  “And you made me hit my head.”

Allura’s smile faltered.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d scare you so bad.”

“Not scared,” Hunk said, though his breathlessness sort of negated his statement.  “Startled.”

Keith came into the kitchen.  “I heard a hand check, did you cockblock somebody?”

Allura glanced over her shoulder as he approached.  “Yeah, these two.”

Keith looked surprised for a second, then grinned.  “Shit, really?  I didn’t know you guys were a couple.”

Pidge couldn’t decide what to do with her face, so she frowned at him, and was glad it was dark enough that they probably couldn’t see her blushing.  “Well, we are.”

“Since when?”

“None of your damn business!” Pidge snapped.

“Last football game of the season,” Hunk supplied, at the same time.  “But it was a long time coming.”

Pidge drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs.  “Okay, _do_ tell everyone everything, I guess.”

He turned to her with a sad look.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

She sighed, and couldn’t look directly at him.  “I mean, it’s not, I just … I don’t know.”

Allura shifted.  “So … yeah I’ll leave you guys alone then.”

She turned and grabbed Keith’s arm.  The three boys by the punch bowl were back to playing with their lighter, and Pidge managed to look at Hunk.

“Sorry,” he said, and he seemed genuinely contrite.

“You don’t have to be.  I’m just being weird.”

“You’re being you and I’m sorry all the same.”  He scooted closer to her.  “So, um, _are_ we keeping this quiet?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  What’s secret about it anyway?  The only thing that changed is we kiss now, though that’s not really something anybody needs to know.”

“I’d like to be able to kiss you publicly,” Hunk said.  “Don’t ask me why, but I feel like I want that.  I mean, not like making out in the hall at school, but just … little _I love you_ kisses here and there. When the spirit moves me.”

Which sounded really nice, when he put it that way.  “I could be okay with that.”

“You wouldn’t mind people seeing?”

"It would be worth it." She leaned towards him, and he met her halfway with a soft press of lips.  “You're worth it.”

 

_November_

 

Pidge and Hunk were at the Holt family’s kitchen table when Matt came in, and both had their heads bent over a chaotic pile of papers.

Matt intercepted the dog, who had heard him come in and was practically leaping on him, before he turned his attention to his sister. “Hey guys, homework over break?”

Both heads popped up to look at him, and Pidge jumped out of her chair.  “Matt!  Welcome home!”

He caught her in a hug, and ruffled her hair.  “Thanks, kid.  What are you guys so busy with?”

“College applications,” Hunk said, putting his pen down and stretching both arms over his head.

“Are you applying to U of M?”

Pidge laughed, and shook her head as she went back to her chair.  “No, sorry.  We are applying to Michigan Tech, though.”

Matt shrugged out of his coat, and went to hang it up next to the door.  “That’s in the UP, right?”

“Yeah.  Still counts as in-state for Dad’s legacy thing.”

“Good deal.  Hunk, you don’t get special tuition in Michigan like us, do you?”

“No.”  He leaned his elbow on the table.  “I’d only be in-state in Wisconsin, or the reciprocity thing in Minnesota, but I don’t want to go there.  I’m applying for a ton of scholarships, though.”

Sam came in from outside then.  “Hey kids, working hard?”

“Always,” Pidge said, rolling her eyes.  “Mom’s at Sendik’s.”

“Again?  What does she need at the eleventh hour?”

“Sweetened condensed milk,” Hunk said.  “I asked her if she got it when it was on special last week, and I guess it reminded her she didn’t get it at all.”

Matt came over to the table and patted his shoulder.  “Thank you, dude.  It isn’t Thanksgiving without pumpkin pie.”

“I know it, man.”

Matt studied the papers on the table, still leaning on Hunk’s chair.  “Why are you guys applying to so many?  You’re both good enough to get in like anywhere you want.”

“We’re hoping to get into the same place,” Pidge said hesitantly.  “I … I’m realizing suddenly I haven’t told you yet that we’re together.”

Matt chuckled.  “Dad told me on the drive.”

“A lot of these are scholarships, too,” Hunk said, waving a hand at the side of the table by the window.  “Might as well do them now, it’s a similar application for most of them.”

“Good thinking.”

“I bet that perfect 1600 will help your financial aid applications,” Sam said with a wink.

Hunk laughed nervously and Pidge was sure he was blushing; he’d been astounded to get his SAT score, even if she wasn’t so surprised. “Yeah, hopefully.”

“Congrats again, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

Sam went into the kitchen, and began rattling around, probably upsetting Colleen's carefully-controlled chaos in what Pidge was sure was an effort to be helpful that would bite him in the ass in about twenty minutes. "Hunk, are you staying for dinner?" Sam called. "I can't remember, the Chicago traffic fried my brain."

"Yeah, and my mom's coming too. She'll be here about four."

Sam closed the cabinet with his elbow, since his hands were full of stemmed glasses. "She got roped into working today?"

"It's the hospital, what are you gonna do? Sick people don't stop needing their meds just because it's a holiday."

"True enough. It's nice she's getting off early enough to join us, though."

"Yeah, and _she's_ glad she doesn't have to cook."

Sam laughed as he went into the dining room. "And my wife's glad you're going to help her!" He stuck his head back into the kitchen. "Katie, you should probably start clearing this up, it's going to be Iron Chef in here as soon as your mom gets home."

She rolled her eyes, but she knew he was right. "Thanksgiving is more important than my higher education?"

"This afternoon it is." He was back in the dining room again. "And if you both help out I'll let you have wine with dinner."

Hunk giggled, and he was blushing bright red. Pidge gave him a grin. "It's a deal."

 

_December_

 

It was a quarter past eleven, and Pidge was falling asleep. Which wouldn't have been that unusual, really, but since it was New Year's Eve it was a little embarrassing.

It didn't help that she was cuddled up next to Hunk on the big comfy couch in the finished part of the basement, and he kept nodding off. When his head tipped one way or another and a snore started to build in his chest, she would rouse herself enough to give him a good poke in the ribs, and he woke with an uncomfortable-sounding snort.

He groaned. "Why do you keep doing that? Just let me sleep."

"No, we have to stay awake. I want you to kiss me at midnight."

Hunk sighed, and on the other end of the couch Matt was acting with every ounce of his ability like _Fawlty Towers_ was so interesting that he couldn't hear them. Matt was not a good actor.

"Just wake me up in time for midnight."

"Have you ever tried to wake you up? I feel like Sisyphus."

"I'm not that bad."

She sat back so he had the full impact of her raised eyebrows. "Dude. If anyone knows, it's me."

Matt coughed, and kept his eyes fixed on the television. Pidge wasn't sure if the cough was real or feigned, and felt a bit proud of herself. "We're making my brother uncomfortable."

Matt turned and looked at them. "I'm not _uncomfortable_ exactly, I'm just still not quite used to you guys being mushy with each other."

"I'm not _mushy_ ," Pidge protested.

"You are a little," Hunk said, tightening the arm around her shoulders. "I like it, though."

"God! Betrayed by my own blood _and_ my lover."

Matt cringed so hard that he threw his entire arm across his face. "I am _begging_ you to _never_ call him your lover in front of me ever again."

 _"Fire?_ " said Basil Fawlty from the television.

Hunk twisted himself so he could brush a kiss to Pidge's temple. "I'm okay with it," he murmured, and she laid her hand on his thigh.

"I thought you might be."

He shifted more, and with his fingertips on her cheek he turned her so he could kiss her properly. It was sleepy and warm and soft, Pidge's favorite kind of kiss. She let herself melt into him, and let her hand drift higher up his thigh, since it was under the blanket. She vaguely heard the comic chaos on TV, but she was _much_ more interested in Hunk's body.

"Jesus _Christ_ ," Matt moaned. "Do you do that in front of Mom and Dad?"

Pidge laid her forehead against Hunk's cheek and let him hold her as close as he could. "No."

"Then stop, because I hear them coming."

And sure enough, the dog came tearing down the stairs, followed by Sam and Colleen, both carrying snacks. "Still awake, kids?" Colleen said.

"Barely," Hunk said.

"Oh no," Sam said, setting down the bowl of Chex mix on the ottoman, "I missed the episode with the kitchen fire?"

Matt laughed. "You own the tape, Dad."

"Still." He sat down beside his son, and picked up the remote. "Let's switch it over to network TV now, I think I can bear half an hour of whatever they're televising."

“The rebroadcast of New York is on channel four,” Matt supplied, and Sam stopped the VCR and changed the channel.

Colleen popped open the bottle she had brought down. "I know it's a little early, but who wants champagne?"

Hunk perked up a little at that. "Does my mom know you're giving me alcohol?"

"Your mom is glad that you only drink with your girlfriend's parents, and then you sleep it off on the couch." She handed him a half-full glass, then poured one for Pidge too. "I've got another bottle in the fridge upstairs in case we finish this one, so you don't have to save it, there will still be some to toast 2006."

Pidge clinked her glass to Hunk's, and he gave her a curious look.

"Here's to 2005," she said. "A pretty good year."

"Pretty good," he agreed, and took a sip, then leaned down to touch his forehead to hers. "Definitely ending on a high note."

 

_January_

 

The phone rang, and something jolted through Hunk -- this was an important call. He got up from his homework at the kitchen table to pick it up. "Hello?"

"Hunk!" It was Pidge. "Hunk oh my god, did you get your mail yet?"

"Mom brought it in earlier but I didn't look at it."

"Oh my god, go look, I have to know."

He went into the living room to find it on its end table by the front door. "Have to know what?"

"If you got the same _unbelievably exciting_ mail that I did."

There was a large, thick envelope underneath the rest of it, and Hunk's heart leaped in his chest. "I see it."

" _Michigan motherfucking Tech._ "

He pulled it out, and sure enough, there was his full legal name printed on it, and a big MTU logo on the return address. "Holy shit, did we get into Michigan Tech?"

"Open it up, I'm going to die from the suspense."

He sat down on the couch and put the phone between his face and shoulder before he tore the top of the envelope open with shaking hands and pulled out the big packet of information; he had to turn it over to get the cover letter.

" _Dear Tsuyoshi G. Kameha, congratulations._ "

Pidge shrieked with joy on the other end of the phone. "Oh my god, we did it! We both got into Tech!"

His heart was pounding like crazy and his hands were still shaking. "Is this really happening?"

"Pinch yourself, it's real!" She made another excited sound, but it sounded far away, like she had taken the phone away from her face. "Oh my god, best Wednesday _ever_."

"This is the first one you've heard back from?"

"Yeah, you too, right?"

"Part of me sort of thought I wouldn't get in anywhere."

"That's stupid, you're a genius. Anywhere would be lucky to get you."

His heart was still pounding, but now some of it was delirious love for Pidge. "Not as lucky as they are to get you."

"Shut up, it's not a competition. They can have both of us together, what's luckier than that?"

"I am," he said, with absolute certainty. "I'm the luckiest person in the entire world."

She _squee_ 'd again. "God, I could kiss you right now."

"So do it." He set down the packet of papers on his lap; he couldn't read any of it right now, he needed to be in this moment with her.

She laughed, and she sounded positively giddy. "I don't have a car. It'll have to wait until tomorrow. Are you going to be at school early?"

"I can be."

"Good. Because this deserves a celebratory makeout and the entire school can see for all I care."

He giggled, feeling bubbly and light. "Right there with you."

 

He met her at her locker in the morning, and since their first hour class was AP Chem they went downstairs and kissed in the corner of the music hallway by the band room until Mr. Smythe arrived and shooed them away from his office and its floor-to-ceiling windows. This meant that they could get into the band room, which then meant that the secret tuba stairs were theirs for the lurking. For some reason it had taken them two entire months of their romance to realize that this was a perfect makeout spot that hardly ever got interrupted, but ever since they had, it had been their favorite.

By the time the five minute bell rang, Hunk needed a cold shower, and he practically had to peel Pidge off him. "We have to go to class."

"Class shmass," she said, breathless and flushed, and her hair in terrible disarray. "We're seniors."

"You can't get senioritis in January."

"The hell I can't."

He laughed and leaned in for one more kiss. "Come on. Michigan Tech could always un-admit us if we suddenly suck."

She pouted, and adjusted her boobs in her bra before she picked up her stack of books from the step. "Why do you have to be right?"

"I don't know, just lucky I guess."

That got her to laugh. "Fine. Let's go do chemistry. I actually did all of my homework last night."

He followed her up the stairs. "It's a Martin Luther King Day miracle?"

"Guess I was excited about college." She opened the door carefully, and they pushed through a crowd of kids in the hall. "Turns out that going to a great engineering school _with you_ is a hell of a motivator."

He took her hand as they made their way to the Chemistry classroom, and he resisted the urge to kiss her again.

 

Friday evening was a home basketball game, which meant that Pidge went to hang out at Hunk’s house after school, and they went back together for pep band.  The game was as uninspiring as always, but the music was always fun, and during the times they weren’t playing Hunk climbed down from the top of the bleachers to sit with Pidge and Lance in the percussion section.  Keith gave him a disapproving look, but Allura seemed to like it.

When they were dismissed after the third quarter, Hunk and Pidge took their time gathering up their equipment, and almost everyone was gone by the time they made it back to the music wing.  Pidge put her drums and mallets away, then found Hunk in the band room, sitting on a step and cleaning out his mouthpiece with a cloth.  “Hey,” she said softly, coming over to him with a sly grin.

“Hey.”  He set the mouthpiece and cloth on the chair under his sousaphone, and held out his arms in a clear invitation.

She straddled his legs and sank down on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck before she kissed him.  His lips were extra warm, like he’d just been buzzing on the mouthpiece, and when he slid his tongue into her mouth, a massive tingle rushed from her head all the way down to her groin, which she ground against him.

He moaned softly, and tightened his arms around her waist.  “You’re coming to my place tonight, right?”

“Yeah.”  She took his lips again, silencing whatever he was about to say that wasn’t nearly as important as the touch of his body.  He was so strong beneath her, so steady and--

He shifted his posture, surging up into her, and suddenly she felt his erection pressing against her, right where she was aching for it, and she felt faint for a moment with the massive crash of lust.  Oh fuck, oh _fuck_ she wanted him so badly.  They’d been fooling around a lot, getting more and more intimate, but they hadn’t quite talked about going all the way yet.  She hadn’t been ready for it, but all of a sudden she knew she was, she craved it, craved _him._  She was desperate to know what it felt like to actually have him inside her.

This was a conversation they should have tonight.

There was a metallic creak of the door opening and the sound of someone clearing his throat, and Pidge just about hit the ceiling.  As it was she jumped right off Hunk’s lap and crashed into a music stand before she whipped around to see Lance standing inside the band room door, eyes wide.

“Uh,” he said.

“Hi,” Hunk replied, sounding strangled.

“Sorry, I knew you guys were here but I didn’t realize I’d be ... interrupting.”

“It’s okay,” Pidge gasped.  It wasn’t really okay, she’d bruised her ass falling on the floor and whacked her head on the corner of the music stand.

Lance crossed the room.  “Were you guys _making out_?  Because I’ve heard people saying you were a couple, but that rumor’s been going around on and off for years and it was never true.”

Pidge managed to sit up on the step next to Hunk, and rubbed her temple.  “Well, it’s true now.  I thought you knew.”

Lance sat backwards in a chair, facing them.  “No shit, really?  I had no idea.”

“Keith didn’t tell you?” Hunk said.  “He and Allura found out at the Halloween party.”

“People keep startling us while we’re kissing,” Pidge grumbled.

Lance folded his arms on the back of the chair and grinned at them.  “Man, I don’t know where I’ve been, but congratulations.  I didn’t realize anything was different with you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Pidge lied.

Lance raised an eyebrow at her.  “I should have suspected something was up when Hunk was totally _beyond_ excited that you both got into Michigan Tech.”

“It’s a great school,” Hunk said.  “We both really want to go there.”

“Didn’t you apply to Harvard?” Lance said to Pidge, and she shrugged awkwardly.

“Just to see if I could get in.  I don’t actually want to go that far from home.  And to be honest, I don’t really want to go anywhere without Hunk.”

Hunk frowned down at his hands on his knees.  “I mean … we should both go to the school we want to go to.  I don’t think we should, like, _try_ to go somewhere together, just for the sake of being together.”

Pidge felt sick for a moment, and hoped it was just the bump to her head.  “But Michigan Tech is the top of both our lists.”

“I know,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand.  “But it’s gonna cost twice as much for me as it will for you, and I don’t want to be paying off student loans until I’m dead.”

“That’s a good point,” Lance chimed in.  “I only applied to UWM.  It’s pretty good and I can still live at home, and not be in debt forever.”

“I applied there too,” Hunk said.  “More as a backup.”

Pidge felt slightly sick again.  “What about all your scholarships?”

Hunk shrugged.  “I’ll have to wait and see what I get.  It also depends on how much of a raise Mom gets at work this year, and how much I can work at Sendik’s over the summer to save up.  If money was no object I’d absolutely go to there, but I have to crunch the numbers.”

Pidge squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back.  “I wish I could share my in-state legacy tuition rate with you,” she said.

He laughed gently.  “I suppose it’s too late for your dad to adopt me?”

“Probably.  I think you get more financial aid if you’re married, though?”

He wrapped his am around her shoulders.  “Dude, I love you, but that’s so not happening.”

She felt a little bit lighter, especially with the fond look that Lance was giving both of them.  “That’s fair.  I was just teasing.”

“I know.”  He gave her a tight squeeze before he let go.  “We should probably get going.  Is the game over?”

Lance nodded.  “Mr. Smythe is coming to lock up in a couple of minutes.  Some of us who stayed are going to Culver’s though, do you want to come along?”

Pidge looked up at Hunk, who seemed to understand her.  “Not tonight,” he said.  “We had a big dinner before, so we’re not hungry.”

Their dinner hadn’t been that big, and Pidge knew that Hunk was going to eat something when they got back to his house, and she probably would too.  But they really wanted to be alone together.

“All right,” Lance said, getting up and then retrieving his coat from the back of the room.  “I’ll see you guys on Monday.”

“Bye!” Hunk called after him, and then stood up and offered his hand to Pidge.  Which he normally didn’t do, but she took it and let him help her to her feet.

“Chivalry isn’t dead today?”

“You whacked your head pretty good.  I wanted to be sure you’re not hurt.”

“I’m fine.”

“Good.”  He kissed her temple, right where she’d hit it, and it was still tender but she resisted the urge to flinch.  “Let’s go home, I want to make out with you on something soft.”

 

Hunk’s mom was watching TV on the couch when they arrived.  Pidge went to the kitchen to call home and reminded her dad that she was staying over, and promised to be home before noon the next day.  When she got back to the living room Hana and Hunk were setting up to watch _Batman Begins_ , which Hana had finally managed to rent from the library; Hunk was inspecting the disc for scratches.

Pidge felt a little stab of disappointment -- it wasn’t that she didn’t like watching movies with Hunk and his mom, but she had other desires tonight that were absolutely _not_ compatible with sitting two feet away from Hana.  Pidge was sure she thought they were having sex anyway, but talking about it with him was definitely a private conversation, and one that she didn’t really want to wait to have.  But she supposed she didn’t have a choice, and it wasn’t like this was going to be _bad_ , just a change of plans.

Hunk handed the disc to his mom, apparently satisfied with its quality.  “Want to help me make popcorn?” he said to Pidge.

“What’s to help?”

He shrugged.  “Want to keep me company while I microwave it?”

She grinned at him.  “Sure.”

 

The movie was as good as Pidge remembered from when she and Hunk saw it in the theater, and Hana definitely enjoyed it too.  But it was also two hours and twenty minutes that she wasn’t making out with Hunk, so she was glad when it ended and Hana said goodnight.

Hunk turned everything off and put the popcorn bowl in the kitchen, then met Pidge in the doorway with a deep kiss. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and inched up as tall as she could get against him, trying to take as much of him as she could. It was never all that much, but she was apparently getting good at it: Hunk caught on quickly and crouched low for a second before hooking his hands under her thighs and lifting her up. 

 _This_ was new, and for a moment Pidge was so excited she just froze, until he stretched up to kiss her again. She wrapped her legs around him as best she could, and he stumbled through the living room and down the short hallway to his bedroom, where they both fell onto his bed with a noisy creak of springs.  
  
Pidge glanced over his shoulder, suddenly nervous that his mom had heard, but the hall remained dark and quiet. “Door?” she whispered.  
  
He kissed her once more before he lifted off, and shut the door all the way. Pidge had found herself surprised recently that Hunk’s mother didn’t have a rule about the door staying ajar when they were together, but she certainly wasn’t going to question it.  
  
Hunk turned back to her, but hesitated for a moment to unbutton his jeans. “This ok?” he murmured.  
  
She licked her lips and nodded. “Very.”  
  
He took his pants off, and the boxers he was wearing today did absolutely nothing to conceal his growing erection. Pidge had planned ahead this morning and just worn sweatpants all day; she adjusted herself on the pillow and spread her arms and legs, inviting him back.  
  
He laid himself atop her, both of them adjusting slightly before he settled his full weight and _god_ it was marvelous, the way with a flex of his body he could press his clock right up against her pussy, touching but not, sex itself but for three layers of fabric.  
  
She wrapped her legs around the backs of his knees and ground up into him with a little moan.  
  
“Oh my god,” he whimpered. “Pidge, I’m so close already.”

“Me too.”  She thrust up against him again, and the pleasure spiked through her.

He covered her mouth with his, a rough, sloppy kiss that almost wasn’t pleasurable, but that _almost_ was the critical piece.  He was gasping, taking her breath, pushing her closer and closer and she squeezed him as tight as she could until her orgasm finally broke through, an explosion of pleasure bursting through the heat of Hunk above and around her.

His rhythm didn’t falter as his breath grew ragged, and then he was gasping deeply, and after a few more moments pried himself off her and collapsed beside her on the bed, panting and gripping his cock with his hand.

Pidge rolled over and wrapped herself around his shoulder, letting her knee rest on his thigh and wishing that he was still between her legs as her pussy continued throbbing for him.  He finally relaxed with a deep sigh, and twisted to capture her lips in a kiss.  “Did I get any on you?”

She felt the crotch of the sweatpants.  “Nope.  Dry.”

“Good.”  He closed his eyes and let his head sink back into the pillow.

Pidge pushed up on her elbow, running her hand lightly over his chest and pulling his leg towards her with hers.  “So, about that.”

He cracked one eye open at her in the low light.  “About that?”

“Yeah, uh.  I’ve been thinking that I -- I mean, if you’re into it, I’m ready to … yeah.”

He shifted to face her more directly.  “You want to have sex?”

It was too dark for Pidge to read his expression.  “Yeah.  The full intercourse thing, I mean.”

“Yeah, right.  What we’ve been doing is a kind of sex, but it’s … we’re holding back.”

Pidge felt a little tingly at that, in a way that was strange but not unpleasant.  “I could be ready to stop holding back, if that’s something you want, too.”

“It is,” he said, and it came out softly, but his tone was sure.  “I -- I’m not sure if I’m ready quite yet, but I do want that. Especially since, you know, we’re going to be able to still be together in college.  We have a lot of future together.  I want to go all the way with you.”

She leaned down and kissed him, and when he slid his arm around her waist it felt like he was caressing her soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sendik's is a grocery store chain in the Milwaukee area, which is where this is set.  
> Michigan Technological University is a public university in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and it's a six-hour drive pretty much directly north of Milwaukee. They offer mostly engineering degrees.  
> I may have got college application/financial aid timelines a little wrong but I don't care.


	2. My Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=awXDkm2RkVM)
> 
>  
> 
> New feature! If you don't want to read the smut, click the aleph א when you get to it and AO3 will skip you to when it's (mostly) SFW again.

_His lips are day, and his skin is night_  
_Oh, and with our love  
We conjure up twilight_

 

It was a week before Valentine’s day when Hunk took a detour from his usual route after Calc, and met Pidge at her locker before she went down to Band.

“Hey,” he said, leaning down and kissing her.

“Hey.”  She let her fingers settle in the soft fabric of his sweatshirt.  “I don’t usually get kisses after German, what’s the occasion?”

He shrugged, and gave her another little peck.  “Friday.  And I have something to tell you.”

She leaned against the the locker.  “Is this something that’ll make us late to band?”

“Probably not, but it’s just small ensemble rehearsal day so I don’t care much.  Brass Choir is awful.”

“I actually like my quintet, but go on.”

“Okay.”  He glanced down at his feet and licked his lips, then leaned very close and lowered his voice.  “So you know … that thing we’ve been talking about.”

“What thing?”

“The, uh.  The naked thing.”

Her heart rate picked up.  “Oh, yeah, that thing.”

He nodded.  “I want you to know I’m ready.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  I was gonna go to Walgreens this weekend and pick up condoms.”

She felt like giggling, but wasn’t sure why.  “So when am I going to stay over again?  Valentine’s Day?”

“I mean, it’s a total cliche, but yeah?  I know we won’t be able to do it this weekend.”

 _He said “do it.”_   _Come on Pidge, you’re not twelve._  “I don’t have a problem with a cliche.”

A huge smile spread across his face, and he leaned in to kiss her again, more slowly.  The one-minute bell rang.

“We need to get to class,” she murmured.

“Katja!” called Frau Keller from the end of the hall.  “Küssen verboten!”

She pushed Hunk off her with a grin.  “Come on, let’s go or she’ll make fun of me in class on Monday.”

  
  
Hunk’s mom was working late on the Saturday before Valentine’s Day, so that was when they planned their evening.  Pidge was certain that her parents knew what was actually happening, which was confusing because previously she’d been certain that they thought she and Hunk were already having sex.  But neither of them said anything about it while she was getting ready, and when her dad dropped her off he just gave her the usual “have fun and be safe.”

Hunk answered about a second and a half after she rang the bell, which made her think that he’d been waiting by the door.  He looked delighted, and waved at her dad as he pulled away.

Pidge stepped inside, and Hunk bent down to kiss her as soon as the door was shut.  “Hi.”

“Hi.  Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Thanks.”  He kissed her again, a little deeper, but she put her hand on his chest and pushed him gently back.

“So, can I come in?”

“Oh, right.”  He scratched the back of his neck and stepped out of the way, smiling awkwardly.  “Sorry, come in, take off your coat.”

She went through to the kitchen.  “So, uh.  I got a CD from the library.”

He grinned at her.  “Oh yeah?”

Her face got hot abruptly.  “Yeah, you know.  To, uh.  To set the mood.”

He kept smiling warmly, and moved closer.  “What is it?”

“Uh.”  She swung her backpack off and dropped it on a chair, then dug for the CD.  “Here.   _Careful Confessions_ seemed kind of Valentine-y.  I listened to the first track and it’s nice.”

He took the case from her, studied the front for a moment before he flipped it over.  Pidge kicked off her shoes and then struggled out of her coat, feeling a bit over-dressed; Hunk was just in jeans and a sweatshirt, like he usually wore, but she’d put on a nice sweater and a skirt over thick wool tights.  She’d even asked her mom’s opinion of the outfit, and both she and Dad had gotten a little misty-eyed about their daughter having a Valentine’s Day date with her sweetheart.

“This looks promising,” Hunk said, handing the CD back, but then he did a double-take.  “Woah, Pidge, you -- you look amazing.”

She blushed instantly.  “Thanks.”

“I didn’t realize we were dressing up.”

She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest.  “No, I -- it was stupid, I just thought I wanted to put in some effort.”

He set the CD on the table behind her, and put his hand on her shoulder.  “Maybe I’ll put on something nicer.  I can wear an apron while I’m cooking.”

She peeked around him, at the food that was taking up the entire counter.  “What are you making?”

“Beef and broccoli stir fry.”

“Sounds good.  Were you thinking we’d, um.  Eat first?  Or the other thing?”

He swallowed hard and trailed his hand down her arm; it gave her goosebumps.  “Well, it’s six now, and mom gets off work at nine.  This will come together quickly, but I don’t … I don’t know how long the other thing will take, and I don’t want to cut it too close on the other end.”

“Me neither.”  She folded her fingers through his.  “I’m not hungry right now.”

“Neither am I.”  He bent down and kissed her.  “Not like that, anyway.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him again, and he enveloped her with his embrace.  She had been a little worried that she’d get this close and chicken out, but that clearly wasn’t happening.  Her desire was absolutely as strong as it always was, she was absolutely certain that she wanted this, that she was ready.

His body pressed into her, crowding her against the edge of the table, which was less than comfortable.

“Mmf,” she said, breaking away with some difficulty.  “Let’s go to your room.”

He pulled back, looking a little dazed.  “Good idea.”

Pidge grabbed the CD, and let Hunk take her hand and lead her to his bedroom, where he pushed the door shut while she got the music started and took off her glasses.  It was quiet, romantic; just the mood she’d hoped to create in here, with his usual fairy lights glowing around the room.

Hunk took off his sweatshirt, leaving the t-shirt rucked up to his underarms.  Pidge stepped over and started peeling it off; he obliged by lifting his arms, but she had to stand up on her toes to get it over his head.

The collar popped off, leaving his hair disheveled in a lopsided, attractive way.  He smiled softly at her as she dropped it on the floor and touched his chest with both hands, running them over his warm brown skin, around his sides to his back.  He scooped her up, just enough to pull her onto the bed, where he dropped her and then ravished her.א

Pidge clung to Hunk with both arms while she got the kissing of a lifetime.  He ran his hands over her whole body, shoulders to hips to knees, and then back up, lingering on her breasts, caressing them through her clothing.  She’d thought maybe he would be eager to get her naked -- or that she would be eager -- but he wasn’t, neither of them was in a hurry, and the mood was one of gentle bliss.

After a bit she rolled over, slightly on top of him, pinning his leg with hers and holding him down with one arm.  For his part, he simply lay there, gazing up at her with those deep brown eyes and a patient expression, one that said _I love you and I could do this forever_.

She reached up and ran her fingers gently through his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut as he gave a happy little sigh.  She’d never really done this before, and his hair was softer than she’d expected; _silky_ would not have been an overstatement.  And he seemed to quite enjoy her playing with it, running her fingertips over his scalp and twisting the strands between her fingers before letting them slip away.  His hair was starting to get long, she noticed; the way it pooled on the blanket under his head.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, and his little smile split into a big grin.

“So are you.”

“You’re not even looking at me.”

He opened his eyes a tiny bit, squinting at her, and then closed them again.  “Yup, just like I thought: beautiful.”

She laughed and ran her finger down the side of his face, around the curve of his smile to the point of his chin, then down his throat to his chest.  Some days his face was a little bit stubbly, but today it was perfectly smooth.  He hadn’t done anything to his body hair, though; there was a light scattering of it across his chest, darkening just a bit as it went down his belly.

He made a pleased hum as her fingers followed the trail of hair, and the hum turned into a gasp as she set her hand on his growing bulge and gave it a little squeeze.

“You still sure?” she whispered.

He nodded, and shifted his hand on her back, holding her a little closer.  “Definitely.”

She squeezed again, and his cock became properly firm in her grasp.  She suddenly remembered something vulgar that Lance had said in passing months ago.  “What does it look like?”

He picked his head up and looked at her hand, then up at her face.  “I dunno, it’s just a penis.”

“Well, like, how does it compare to other ones?  Bigger, smaller?”

“I really have no frame of reference for this.  It’s just my dick and you’re going to see it in a minute anyway.”

“All right, fine.”  She leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, then trailed her mouth slowly lower as she continued stroking him.  After a long minute of teasing she made it down to the waistband of his pants, and buried her nose in his skin, breathing deeply.  His cock twitched in her hand, a throb that she could only assume was desire.  She suddenly felt hot between her legs, and squishy in a pleasant way: that physical sensation of lust that she’d become familiar with recently.

“You’re wearing too much,” he breathed.

“That’s true.”  She pressed one more kiss to the skin of his belly, and then got up off the bed.  He struggled to sit partially upright.

 _Something always brings me back to you,_ the music said.   _It never takes too long...._

She felt his eyes on her as she pulled off her sweater, and then unfastened her bra and shrugged out of it.  It joined his shirt on the floor of his bedroom, and he reached for her, sliding his big warm hands around her waist, pulling her close and kissing her cheek, down her neck, across her shoulder.  He was so gentle it was almost teasing, and her heart kicked up, setting her blood pounding.  “Hunk.”

“Hmm.”  He pressed his nose into her skin and kissed the soft top of her breast.  It was nearly overwhelming.

“ _Ah…”_

His head popped up.  “Okay?”

She nodded quickly.  “Definitely.”

He lowered his mouth to her skin again, dragged his tongue across her nipple and in an instant Pidge was so horny she couldn’t stand it.  “No, nevermind, you’re being too slow with this.”

He looked deeply confused, until she stood up and unzipped her skirt.  “Come on,” she whispered.  “God, I want you so badly.  We’ve taken this slow enough.”

He unfroze with a start, stood up as well and pushed the blanket back, clearing the bed.  He took off his pants but hesitated with his thumbs under the waistband of his briefs.  “Are you really sure?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more.”  She pushed her tights and panties down her thighs and kicked them off, and she didn’t miss the lust washing over his expression as he took in her naked body.  She stepped close and put her hands on his face, drawing him down to kiss him deeply.

He wrapped both arms around her, scooped her up and plopped her onto his bed even more dramatically than he had before.  It felt just like the movies and Pidge didn’t want to love it for that, but _god,_ she really did.  She hadn’t expected this evening to be all that romantic, but everything always was with Hunk, wasn’t it?  Maybe not in a Hollywood way, but that suited them just fine.  She didn’t want Hollywood, she wanted _him,_ and the way he fancied up macaroni and cheese for her, and the way his bedroom always smelled like the most comfortable place in the world, with its pile of blankets and Christmas lights all year and big shelf of anime VHS tapes and that weird poster of a tuba wearing a lei.

He lowered himself on top of her, kissing hungrily, pressing his growing arousal between her legs just hard enough to drive her crazy.  “God, Hunk, _please…._ ”

“Okay,” he said with a little gasp, lifting himself up off her and sitting back.  He shuffled out of his underwear and there it was, the _monster dong_ she’d heard about from Lance, who was apparently not shy about sharing what he saw in the locker room.

Pidge wasn’t in any position to judge what sort of size percentile it fell into, but it certainly looked big enough.  And it was thoroughly swollen, standing straight out from his body and bouncing slightly as he got up for a moment to retrieve the box of condoms out of his dresser drawer.  He tore one off, then sat back down on the bed again.

Pidge pulled her knees together, suddenly self-conscious.  Hunk took a couple of tries to tear open the condom packet, and hesitated after he pulled it out, looking at it.

Pidge sat up.  “Okay?”

He nodded.  “Yeah.  Just, sudden … performance anxiety.”

Her heart was pounding.  “We don’t have to, if you’re not ready.”

“No, I want to.”  He lifted his eyes to hers.  “I really want to, I promise.  I bought these right after I told you, and I’ve wanted to do this with you every minute since then.”

She licked her lips and looked back down at the condom.  “You remember how to put that on?”

He nodded.  “Yeah.  I, um.  I might have practiced.  Give me a minute, though.”

So she bit back her impatience, and watched as he stroked himself a couple of times, then rolled the thing on.  Once it was fully in place he ran his hand up and down it a couple more times, breath catching, before he looked back to her.

“Do we need lube?  I got some too, I didn’t know.”

She slipped her fingers between her legs for a moment, and they came away slippery.  “No, I -- I think I’m good.  I’ll let you know if that changes, though.”  

He nodded.  “Okay.  I’m ready.”

“Me too.”  She got her knees under her and leaned up to kiss him, opening her mouth and sliding her tongue against his because she just needed to _consume_ him, she needed every damn inch of him and nothing would ever be enough.

He set her down gently on his pillows this time, moved her knee out to the side and she wrapped her leg around his hip.  She’d never touched so much of his skin and it was a drug, it was an addiction.

He lifted up a little, braced himself on his right arm by her head and reached down with his left.  His face was only inches from hers, his breath hot on her skin, and she wanted to kiss him again so badly, but the promise of the alternative was immensely more tempting, and a kiss would probably only be a distraction.

“I’m not sure how to do this,” he murmured.

All Pidge could do was swallow.  She reached between her legs too, and together they lined up, he pressed the head of his cock against her vulva and she could have _screamed_ it was so tantalizing.  And then he shifted his hips and pressed inside, just the tiniest bit, and his breath caught in his throat and Pidge had never felt like this, had never known what this sensation was.  It was agony and ecstasy, the almost-painful stretch of him entering her combining with her insane arousal into the worst hunger she’d ever known.  And to add to that, his whole body was warm on top of her, his breath puffing on her skin and she loved him, she _loved him_  so damn much she thought she might just die.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

She nodded, and realized she was almost too choked up from emotion to speak.  She pulled her arm out from between them and wrapped it around his ribs.  “I’m good.”

He shifted, kissing her tenderly before pressing deeper.  It stung but it felt incredible, filling her in a way she’d only vaguely known she wanted; a breathy moan ripped out of her chest.  Hunk took his arm away from where they were connected and brought it up to her face, brushing his fingers on her cheek.  “Oh, Pidge.”

The song ended, and a new one started, even slower and more romantic.   _He bends his breath around my name…._

She ran her hands up his sides, clinging to his shoulders.  “My god, _Hunk_.”

“I’m not going too fast?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I promise.  Keep going.”

He put his hand down on the mattress and kissed her again, and pulled his hips back just the slightest bit before pressing in again.  The simultaneous sensations of kissing him and fucking him were completely overwhelming, and even though Pidge wanted to take it slow she couldn’t stand it, she pressed her hips up into him, taking him even deeper and drawing a gasp out of him.

He kissed her even harder, and pushed in all the way in one swift thrust.  The pain was there and it was shockingly intense but then suddenly fading, morphed into lust, and all she could think was how fully he was inside her, how firmly his skin pressed against hers, the itch of his pubic hair as he ground against her and how much she would just _explode_ if he didn’t start moving.

But he seemed to have read her mind, because move he did.  His whole body seemed to roll, and his cock slid out and then back in, rubbing on her in ways that were everything in the world and not enough by half.  She squirmed, gasping, desperate for friction, fingers digging into the flesh of his sides.  The fullness of him inside her ought to have been satisfying, and it both was and wasn’t at the same time; it was what she so desperately needed, but she also needed _more._  She tried to roll her hips, and he thrust again, his breath shuddering.

“Oh my god, Pidge.”

She caught his lips with her mouth, nipped at him, and he gasped, took her more roughly for a moment.  It was _glorious_ , so she bit him again, a little harder, and he moaned.

“Fuck, Pidge, don’t do that, I’m too close.”

“It’s okay,” she breathed against his cheek, and he trembled.  “I know you want to.”

He shook his head, his hair tickling her face.  “I really thought I’d last more than thirty seconds, our first time.”

“I don’t care,” she moaned.  “I want you to come inside me.”

Apparently he didn’t need much encouragement.  He ducked his face into the side of her neck, pressed his face into her shoulder as he lost himself, thrusting harder and rougher and so wildly that he almost slipped out, and then he was groaning through gritted teeth as he pounded through his orgasm.

Pidge was so dizzy with pleasure she wasn’t completely sure if she came too; she didn’t think so, but the feeling of Hunk reaching his climax between her legs was overwhelming, incredible.  A deep pause, pressing together, trembling, hot -- and then he pulled out, and the sensation was something entirely new, slippery and sensitive -- it almost sent her over the edge and she realized that she was absolutely not done yet.

Hunk lifted himself off her and flopped down at her side, breathing heavily.  “Did you?” he whispered.

“No,” she gasped, and he grimaced.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  It’s okay.”  She rolled onto her side and kissed him, then took his wrist and guided his hand between her legs.  “We can -- like this.”

His mouth fell open in a sigh as he pressed two fingers between her folds, and she gasped when he curled them inside her.

“Like that?”

“Fuck, yes.”

She bent her knee and set it on his hip, opening her legs further, then let go of his wrist to touch her clit.

“Holy shit, Pidge…”

“Deeper,” she begged, pressing her hips towards him.  God, why had she waited so long to get him inside her, even like this?  And even though his fingers didn’t fill her nearly as much as his cock had, they were far more dextrous, touching her in ways he hadn’t a moment ago, rubbing her from the inside so perfectly that she lost all sense of space, of herself in the world.  She moaned aloud, resonating with the rhythm of his touch.

He surged forward, taking her lips with his and swallowing her cry, and another wave of pleasure crashed over her, from her pelvis up through her body and from her mouth down, swirling together in a hurricane of ecstasy as her climax edged so close but it _wasn’t here_ , not quite, not yet.  But Hunk was in her and beside her and rolling halfway on top of her and kissing her and she’d never felt like this, never felt so loved, never felt so perfect.

_His fingers are music to my soul…._

Pidge came all at once.  It felt like being gently smothered; it overwhelmed her, crowding the oxygen out of her lungs so she could barely breathe, couldn't think about anything but the astonishing sensation of Hunk atop her, inside her, filling her, alive.

As her orgasm began to ebb, Hunk’s fingers inside her became far, far too much, and she pushed at his wrist.  He withdrew, and then set his hand on her hip, holding her close to his chest with his other arm around her shoulders.

She was trembling, and she wasn’t sure why.  There were tears on her face too, she realized, when one of them rolled over her cheek.  She pressed even closer to Hunk, silently begging him to wrap her up, to keep her here forever.  Why would she ever want to be anywhere else?

They were quiet for a long spell, listening to the music that was still playing.  Hunk’s breath slowly evened out, and Pidge’s was doing the same on a lower slope, interrupted as it was with things that weren’t exactly sobs but seemed to contain huge bubbles of emotion that just burst out of her.  She supposed she was crying?  She had never thought she was the kind of person who would cry after sex, but here she was.  But Hunk was rubbing her back, warm and gentle and certain and she just felt so good, so _right_.  She was safe here.

“Doing okay?” Hunk finally murmured, into her hair.

She nodded, and pulled herself back just enough that she could face him.  “That was everything I hoped for.”

He smiled, but still looked a little concerned.  “Me too.  Except for, you know … this part where you’re crying.”

She laughed, and it was sort of wet and fairly loud.  “I know, I’m sorry.  It’s … it’s weird.  I don’t know why this is happening.”

“You’re not hurt?”

“No, god no.  Just emotional or something.”

His expression finally relaxed into a gentle smile.  “Is it okay if I cry a little with you?”

“I can’t stop you.”   _God, I love him._

He chuckled and leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers before she could see if there were any tears in his eyes already.

“So, we just did that,” she said, and Hunk laughed again.

“God, I know.  It’s totally weird.”

“I honestly never thought I’d lose my virginity in high school.”

“Me either.  There’s a part of me that thought I _never_ would.”

“What, never?  But you’re so handsome and funny.”

He squeezed her a bit too hard for a moment, and kissed her nose after while she giggled.  “I know that now.”

“Doing this whole … lovers thing with you has really been one surprise after another.”

“It really has.  And I can’t believe we didn’t get to it sooner.”

“Right?  What were we thinking.”

He kissed her briefly.  “That being best friends was pretty damn good, too.”

“We’re still best friends,” she said.  “It’s just there’s a naked aspect now.”

He laughed and rolled slightly away, relaxing up against the wall behind him and then wiping the wetness out of his eyes.  “ _A naked aspect_?”

“Well, what do you call this?”

“I dunno, sex?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically.  “Boring.  Pedestrian.”

“Functional.  And whatever we call it, I get to touch your boobs.”

She liked it when he touched her boobs.  “Fair point.”

“Anyway.”  He looked down at his crotch, and started poking at the condom.  “I need to take this off and get cleaned up.”

She sighed.  “I should clean up too.  I’ve been told I never want to know the pain of a kidney infection, and that’s something I’ll just take on faith.”

“A kidney infection?  Shit.”

“Yeah.”  She rolled over, and sat up with a bit of effort.  “I’m going to use the bathroom quick.”

“Okay.”

Scurrying the ten feet down the hall to the bathroom wasn’t new for Pidge, but doing it butt-naked was.  She made a mental note to put her underwear on first next time, so even if her hips were noodly at least she didn’t have a draft on her ass.

So she peed, which felt a little strange; her whole downstairs felt strange really, sensitive and swollen, and it made something as simple as peeing seem foreign.  But she managed it, and cleaned up, and after a glance in the mirror decided to run a comb through her hair before she went back.

Hunk was shuffling through his closet, and for a second Pidge was shocked that he was completely naked.  But of course he was, right?  So was she.

She picked up her underwear out of the tangle of her tights on the floor and slipped them on, and immediately felt a lot less vulnerable.  “Picking an outfit?”

Hunk glanced over his shoulder.  “Yeah.  I mean, not that I have a whole lot of nice clothes, but I’m kind of torn between black pants or khakis.”

Pidge shrugged, and picked up her bra.  “You don’t have to dress up for me at all.”

“I want to.”  He turned away from the closet, and after a moment’s hesitation set his hands on her cheeks and kissed her softly.  “But I’m going to clean up first.”

“Good choice.”

While Hunk was in the bathroom she struggled back into her tights, then got the skirt and sweater back on, and she was about to start going through his closet herself when he got back.

“You look so _nice_ ,” he said again, with a little bit of a sigh.

She turned to see him getting his underwear back on.  “You’re not too bad yourself.”

He laughed awkwardly and sort of pulled his arms in front of his body, then grabbed his t-shirt off the floor.  “If you say so.”

“This is me saying so.”

He pulled the shirt over his head.  “What should I wear?”

She looked back at the closet and shrugged.  “All of your clothes are sort of the same color.”

“Yeah, different shades of brown, right?  There are some that I could have sworn were different colors but I guess not.”

“This one isn’t brown.”  She pulled a gold shirt out of the closet.  “I mean, mostly.  This is a good color on you.”

“If you say so.”  He took it from her and started removing the hanger.  “It all kind of looks the same.”

“Yeah, well, it would, wouldn’t it?  You can trust me on colors.”

“Yeah, okay.  What color pants?”

“Black with that.”

Hunk stepped around her and retrieved them.  “These are actually black, right?”

She grinned.  “Yes, they’re actually black.  Those are your concert blacks, right?  You’d know by now if they weren’t the right color.”

“These are kind of new, actually.”  He stepped into them and hiked them up, and Pidge was fascinated as he tucked his underwear in, though he seemed not to notice her staring.  “I got these right before the holiday concert season.  My old ones were finally too short to pretend like they still fit.”

“You’re seriously still getting taller?  What the hell, man.  I peaked two years ago.”

He shrugged and started buttoning the shirt.  “What can I say.”

Pidge made a noncommittal sound, and watched as he finished with his buttons, then tucked in the shirt and did up his pants.

“There.  What do you think?”

“Dashing,” she said, leaning on the desk.  “But your toes look cold.”

He glanced down at his bare feet.  “They’re not.”

She stepped towards him, and when she got close he slid his hands around her waist.  Pidge tipped her chin up, and he took the suggestion, leaning down to kiss her while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“We had sex,” she murmured against his lips, and he giggled suddenly.

“Yeah, we sure did.”

Several kisses.  “It made me hungry.”

Another kiss.  “Well.”  Two more.  “Good thing your boyfriend likes to cook.”

A deep kiss, and at the end she nibbled on his lip.  “I think maybe he likes this better...”

He laughed through his nose.   _Ridiculously cute._  “For the moment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Küssen Verboten](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16Fi2KPreeE) is a silly song that most German students know.


	3. Breathless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Breathless](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzerbXFwGCE)
> 
> UWAY is the UW-Milwaukee Youth Wind Ensemble, an honors band open by audition to high school wind and percussion students in the Milwaukee area. They rehearse throughout the school year and perform four concerts.
> 
> I have thoroughly fabricated every detail of Michigan Tech preview day, borrowing heavily from a prospective student workshop at my alma mater. This is not intended to be factually accurate.

_It's like a dream_  
_Although I'm not asleep_  
_I never want to wake up_  
_Don't lose it_  
_Don't leave it_

_March_

 

It was Friday, and Pidge’s attention was even more shot than usual.

Which, when she finally got herself to think about it, wasn’t too much of a surprise.  Tomorrow was Michigan Tech’s preview weekend, which meant that she and Hunk were going on a seven-hour road trip with their parents to the UP, and finally going to see their first choice school in person.  She was so excited she could barely stand it, and her overnight bag had been packed for five days already.

Adding to the stress, Mom had left before dawn that morning for Ann Arbor, following a middle of the night call from Matt’s roommate that he was in the emergency room about to have his appendix removed.  A tiny corner of Pidge’s selfish heart was upset that Mom wasn’t going to be able to come to the weekend at Tech, but her concern about Matt was a lot stronger.  And of course he was going to be okay, but it was still terrifying, and none of them had gotten back to sleep after the phone call.

Either of those two disruptions by itself would have been plenty to throw her off her rhythm.  Plus Band was weird this week; since Solo Ensemble had been the previous weekend, they’d spent a couple days not really doing anything -- Pidge had spent all of Monday and Tuesday whittling and wrapping a new reed -- and the band was now sight-reading spring concert music.  She and Hunk had done the thing where they traded parts on the sly for their first read-through, but this time they’d both managed to get a scolding because the bassoon part switched to tenor clef halfway through, which Hunk couldn’t read, so the lack of a bass line gave them away.  It also didn’t help that there was an obvious tuba solo in the same movement, which really didn’t sound the same on Pidge’s instrument, even though she played it correctly.

And as if all _that_ wasn’t enough, the physical aspect of their relationship had gotten to the stage this week where the thing that Pidge had been trying very hard not to worry about … became something to worry about.  And she _had_ to tell Hunk, absolutely had to, but she really didn’t want to.  He was going to freak the fuck out, and it wasn’t worth freaking out over.  Not yet.

She met him in the band room after school, where he’d spent seventh hour apparently polishing his tuba and humming his part for the new piece they’d gotten at their UWAY rehearsal on Tuesday.

“I think it’s shiny enough,” she quipped as she entered the room, and he looked up with a grin.

“Hey!  Yeah, it’s done, I was just killing time.”  He tossed the rag towards his backpack, and started putting the horn back in its case.  “I’m your ride home today, right?”

“Yeah, Mom had to go to Matt at the last minute.”

“God, that’s right.  Have you heard anything yet?”

“No, I’ve been in school.  But I guess no news is good news.”

“Probably.”  He latched the case and took it over to his locker.  “Won’t need you this weekend, big guy, I’ve got plans.”

Pidge’s heart leapt, but not in a good way.  “So, um.  Before we go tomorrow, I need to tell you something.”

He turned around, eyes wide.  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

She bit her lip, and squeezed her hands into fists as she moved closer to him so she could lower her voice.  “I mean, it’s probably nothing, but … my period is a couple days late.”

He made a strangled kind of sound and backed into the brass lockers with a little _clang_.  “No!  I mean, we used a condom every time, it was fine, we--”

She grabbed his hands and held them together on his chest.  “It’s probably nothing.  I’ve always been irregular, and it’s only a couple of days.  But … you know, ever since we ... I’ve been kind of paranoid.”

His hands were still now, but he was hyperventilating a little.  “Do you -- I don’t know, do you think you should do a test?”

She shook her head quickly.  “No, I -- no.  Not yet.  We’ll give it like a week.  Like I said, it’s never been regular.  It’s probably just late because my uterus hates me.”

He swallowed hard.  “Are you sure?”

“No.”  She squeezed his hands.  “But there’s a good chance I’m worried about nothing.  I mean, we’ve only done it three times.”

“It only takes once.”

“I know, I know.  But like you said, we used a condom every time, and they didn’t break, and I saw you put them on and that was fine.  And like, what’s the statistic for perfect use anyway?  Really high.”

“How do we know it’s perfect?”

She rolled her eyes.  “I remember freshman health class.  Come on, you sat next to me.  You almost threw up during the birth video.”

He freed his hands from hers and wrapped them around her back, and she collapsed into his embrace.  “We can’t have a baby,” he murmured, voice shaking.

She nodded, her hair rubbing on his shoulder.  “I know.  And we won’t.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.  I’m probably not pregnant anyway, but if it does come to it … yeah.”

He held her tighter.  “Okay.”

 

 

_Saturday_

 

It was just past seven in the morning and they were almost to Green Bay when Pidge’s uterus abruptly reminded her of its existence.  She had been dozing, but the sudden cramp woke her up all the way; she groaned and pulled her knees up against the back of the passenger seat, where Hunk was pretty well drugged out on Dramamine and listening to an audiobook on his CD player.

Hana turned towards Pidge.  “Honey, are you okay?”

The cramp intensified for a moment, and Pidge wrapped her arms around her belly.  “I think my period just started.”

“Do you need to use a bathroom?”

Pidge nodded and shifted in her seat, trying to make the pain ease up, but it didn’t help.  Fucking shit, why was it like this every time?  Cramps so bad she could barely walk, and way more blood than should be coming out of her body by any reasonable standard -- and the bleeding had definitely already started, it always came before the cramps.  If she was lucky today, she’d get to it before she ruined her jeans.

Hana leaned forward and tapped Sam on the shoulder.  “Hey, it’s getting to be about time for a rest stop, don’t you think?”

Sam glanced over his shoulder at Pidge, who tried to smile.  “Sure,” he said.  “I bet we could all use a little break.”

Hana leaned over to Hunk then, shook his shoulder gently.  “We’re pulling over in a minute,” she murmured.  “You awake?”

He grumbled, and pulled off his headphones before rubbing his face.  Pidge couldn’t see him, but she knew his just-woke-up grumbles.  “I am now.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Poor boy.”  She gave his shoulder a squeeze before she sat back.  “How’s your book?”

“I made it to _What a lot of things you do use good morning for!_ before I zonked out.”

“That’s like, page five,” Pidge said.

“Are you making fun of me?  It sounds like you’re making fun of me.”

She smiled, and despite the pain in her pelvis she felt suddenly much better -- their worry had all been over nothing after all.  “Only a little.  I was asleep too.”

 

It was only a few minutes later when Sam pulled off the freeway at a gas station with an Arby’s attached.  Hunk was the first one out of the car, and he immediately leaned on the hood and started taking deep breaths of the cold early spring air.  Sam and Hana went into the shop, and Pidge dug in her backpack for a clean pair of underwear and a tampon before she went in to use the bathroom.

It was about as bad as she’d thought -- her underwear was already soaked, but there was only a tiny bit of blood on the inside of her jeans, which she could live with.  She cleaned up as well as she could with the scratchy one-ply, then changed into dry panties and did what she could to rinse out the dirty ones in the sink.  She thought about just throwing them away, but she’d only brought one extra pair, and she’d need them if she leaked again.  Sort of clean was better than not at all clean.

She squeezed out as much water as she could, and wrapped them in paper towels before she went back outside.  Hunk was leaning against the car, and their parents were still in the shop.  “You okay?” he said softly.

“Yeah.”  She opened the door to stow her disgusting wet parcel at the bottom of her backpack, and wished she’d had the forethought to bring a plastic bag or something.  When she was done she came over to Hunk and leaned on the car beside him.  “I’m not pregnant.”

He sagged suddenly, and she grabbed at him, but he didn’t fall.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  Blood everywhere.  It was just late like always.”

“Holy shitballs, Pidge, I cannot possibly tell you how relieved I am.”

“I know.  I’ve never been so glad to have cramps from hell, that’s how I knew.”

He let out a giddy laugh.  “Did you bring ibuprofen?”

“Yeah, I should take some.”  She pressed her hand to her belly, but it didn’t really help the pain.  “I’m getting back in the car, my downstairs doesn’t like standing.”

“Just a second.”

She hesitated, and he enveloped her with his arms, pressed his cheek against hers.  His skin was cold to the touch; she didn’t know how he could stand being out here in just a t-shirt.  “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” he said, and kissed the side of her neck.  “Thank you for telling me right away.”

“Of course.”  She pulled back and gave him a quick peck on the lips.  “I really need to sit down.”

“Okay.”

She got back into the car, and had just swallowed her two pills with half a bottle of water when Sam and Hana came back out with their coffee and a plastic bag that looked to be filled with shitty delicious gas station snacks.  Pidge was suddenly starving, and it occurred to her that the stress of wondering if she was knocked up had affected her appetite: she hadn’t eaten much yesterday, and nothing at all so far today.  Chocolate was exactly what she needed.

“You kids ready to keep rolling?” Sam said, relinquishing the bag of snacks to Pidge as Hunk climbed reluctantly back into the car.

“How much farther is it?” Hunk asked.  “I don’t actually know where we are.”

“Green Bay,” Sam said.  “About four more hours to the Keweenaw.  You doing okay?”

“Well enough.”

“All right.  Let me know if you need to stop again.  And you can drive for a bit if that’ll help.”

“Thanks, I’ll let you know.  Probably once we get close so I can do the last leg and not be drowsy when we get there.”

Sam twisted to look at Pidge, who already had a package of Ho-Ho’s open and a whole one stuffed into her mouth.  He raised one eyebrow at her.  “Tasty?”

She nodded, and didn’t try to speak around the mouthful of sugar.

He chuckled. “All right, buckle up.  Michigan Tech preview day won’t wait for us!”

 

Hunk came out of his antiemetic funk and took over the driver’s seat for the last hour up to Houghton, and then there it was: Michigan Technological University.  They found the admissions office and checked in, and after a brief wait Pidge and Hunk were matched up with their overnight hosts and went off to see the dorms.

Pidge’s host Leah was a sophomore and lived in Wadsworth Hall, a huge dorm just south of the main part of campus.  Pidge was thoroughly impressed by the size of the building, and that the interior was much less hectic than movies had led her to believe a college dorm was.  And maybe it’s because it was noon on a Saturday, but it was fairly quiet and clean to boot.  Leah’s roommate Ivy was sitting on her bed when they came in, hunched over what Pidge could only assume was homework, though because the bed was lofted Pidge couldn’t actually see what it was.

“Hey,” Leah said, stuffing her keys into her back pocket.  “The prospie is here.”

Ivy peered over the edge of the bed.  “Does the prospie have a name?”

“Pidge,” she said, trying to sound confident.  “My name tag says Katherine but I go by Pidge.”

Ivy’s eyes widened minutely.  “Is that a Pokemon thing?”

And there went Pidge’s confidence; she tried not to blush, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Leah smirking.  “Maybe.”

“Come on Ivy,” Leah said, leaning against a desk.  “Don’t give her the third degree, we’re trying to convince her to go to school here.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.  We do need more girls here.”  She twiddled her pencil.  “You gonna take her to lunch?”

“Probably.  You hungry, Pidgey?”

“Yeah.  I think it’s on the schedule, right?”

Ivy grinned and ducked her chin, and Leah gave a little laugh.  “Oh man, you’re speaking Ivy’s language.  It is in fact 12:15, which is lunchtime.  Let’s go see what they have today.”

Ivy flipped a thick book shut and slithered down from her bunk.  “It’s Saturday so it’s brunch and I checked the website, they have hash browns today.”

“Oh nice, the hash browns are great.”

Pidge put her backpack down on the floor by Leah’s bed.  “Do I need to bring anything?”

“Nah.”  Leah waved her hand.  “We’ll have time to stop back here before you go to the department visit.  Just bring your meal pass.”

“Okay.  Uh.”  Pidge palmed a tampon from her bag and tried to stuff it into her pocket surreptitiously.  “I need to use the bathroom first.”

“Oh, bad luck,” Ivy said, peering at her -- she had clearly noticed.  “Just start?”

Pidge couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed to death or just roll with it; neither Ivy nor Leah seemed at all awkward about it.  “Yeah, this morning.”

“Bummer, dude.”  Leah jingled her keys in her pocket and stepped past Pidge to the door.  “The bathroom is right by the stairs, we’ll swing by for you.”

The bathroom wasn’t gross, thankfully, though Pidge wondered how she would fare using a communal restroom for a full year.  She supposed one got used to it.

Her hosts were still hanging exactly where they had been in the hallway when she got done, and she followed them as they traipsed down the stairs to the dining hall.

There were in fact hash browns, as Ivy had said, and they looked very good indeed.  Pidge loaded up her plate with everything that caught her eye -- she was still very hungry, the gas station snacks hadn’t done much -- and the three girls sat down at the end of a long table.

Leah chattered while Ivy and Pidge stuffed their faces.  Once she’d eaten about half her plate, her attention was caught by a very familiar figure walking into the dining room -- she sat up straight and threw her hand in the air.  “Hunk!”

Leah and Ivy both turned, and Leah waved at the guy who was with Hunk.  “Hey Harji, is this your prospie?”

“Yup, this is Hunk,”  Harji set his tray down next to Leah, who turned to Pidge.

“Wait, you know each other already?”

“Yeah,” Pidge said, trying not to blush, and pushing her potatoes into the ketchup on her plate.  “We’ve been friends since forever and we’re dating now.”

“And you both have weird nicknames?”

“My given name is Tsuyoshi,” Hunk said, sitting down beside Pidge.  “The other sixth graders in Milwaukee wouldn’t even try to pronounce it.”

“God, I know how that is,” Ivy said.  “Only my parents use my Chinese name any more.  Not that I mind it that much.”

“Yeah, me too.  At least they only have to struggle with my last name this way.”

“Wimps,” Harji said with a grin, digging into his hash browns.  “I don’t let people call me anything but Harjinder until I’ve decided I’m going to keep them around.”

Hunk raised his eyebrows.  “Your very first words to me were to call you Harji.”

He nodded.  “Yes, because I decided I like you.  Keep up!”

Leah smacked her palm on the table, and Ivy’s spoon bounced.  “You little bitch!  You only told me this winter it was okay to call you Harji, and I’ve known you since the first day of freshman year!”

He simply shrugged and focused on his food.  Ivy leaned into Leah’s shoulder and gave her a tiny smile.

 

When they had finished eating, Pidge and Hunk’s hosts helped them find their way to the departments they were visiting in the afternoon.  The one Pidge had picked was computer science, and there were three other prospective students there with her, all of them boys.  A youngish professor showed them around, a few classrooms (all but one shared with other departments) and a computer lab that had a pair of students in it who looked like they’d been there for quite some time, based on the empty food wrappers in the trash can and their rumpled clothing.  One of them was listening to Daft Punk on his headphones so loud that they could hear it from the door of the room.

After the tour they went back to the smallest of the classrooms, where the professor gave them a short presentation about the department, and afterwards they were joined by two juniors and Pidge and the others had a chance to talk about themselves and ask questions about the major.

It was … a little overwhelming.  Even though Pidge had thoroughly read up on the website and was prepared to know what she was walking into, they hit her with a ton of information and it all went so fast that she barely had time to think.  It was also likely that the pain from her cramps (flaring up again now that the morning’s medication was wearing off) was affecting her ability to concentrate.  Like it always did.  God, what shitty timing.

After a short while though, one of the students, Cassandra, seemed to notice that Pidge was just kind of nodding along, and started talking directly to her -- and that, amazingly, made all the difference.  It was all still overwhelming, but Pidge felt like they actually wanted her there, like this was them trying to impress her rather than to scare her off.  They were going about it in a very computer scientist-y way, which was probably why it had taken her a bit to realize what it was.

But yeah, it was definitely impressive.  The longer Pidge spent on the Michigan Tech campus the more desperately she wanted to be a student here, to actually be a part of this and do the kinds of things that Cassandra had done.  Before long the sense of being overwhelmed changed, as Pidge’s mind started running wild with the possibilities.  This was a lot more pleasant, though, and it served pretty well to take her mind off her body’s pain.

At three o’clock Cassandra took them back to the admissions office for their official campus tour.  Hunk was already there, and worry washed over his face as soon as he saw Pidge -- he stepped away from the group to take her hand.  “Hey, are you okay?  You look kind of wobbly.”

“I’m okay, it’s just cramps.”

“Your cramps aren’t _just_ cramps.”

“Dude, trust me, I know.  I need to take more ibuprofen but my water bottle is empty and I didn’t want to hold us up to fill it before we came here.”

“Here.”  He swung his backpack around and pulled out his water bottle.  “I’ve got enough, you can have it.”

“God, thank you.”  She set her own backpack down to dig out her pill bottle, and swallowed two just as the tour guides were splitting them up into smaller groups.

Between the cold weather and the pain, the first twenty minutes of the tour were distinctly unpleasant.  But having Hunk there was a comfort, and eventually the medication kicked in and the pain began slowly to dull.

The tour was fairly interesting, at least.  They saw the academic buildings, and a couple of dorms, and got warm in the library before they went back outside and spent a while in the wind schlepping down to the sports facilities, and having the various hiking and skiing amenities vaguely pointed at by their tour guide, who was very enthusiastic about winter sports.

Once they were all thoroughly chilled, they ended the tour in the Memorial Union.  Pidge went to use the bathroom (and _god_ it felt good to sit, if only for a couple minutes) and then met Hunk in the bookstore, where he had run into their parents.

Dad did his usual Dad thing, throwing his arms in the air and calling her name, then wrapping her up in an embarrassingly thorough hug as soon as she got close enough.  “Hey kid!  Having fun?”

“Yeah,” Pidge said, trying not to let on just how much she liked it when he did this.  “I love it here.  I’ve made up my mind.”

His eyes crinkled up almost into nothing as he beamed at her.  “Oh, I’m glad to hear that!  Because I already got you this.”

He handed her a plastic bag from the bookstore, and she opened it to find a little stuffed husky and a Michigan Tech pennant.  “Oh my gosh, Dad, you didn’t have to do this.”

He ruffled her hair.  “Sure I did.  Oh, but those car decals aren’t for you, they’re for me and Mom.”

She laughed a little.  “Yeah, I figured.”  She took her things out of her bag and stowed them carefully in her backpack, then finally turned her attention to Hunk and Hana, who had been talking quietly a few steps away.

“How about you, Hunk?” Dad asked.  “Having a good time on campus so far?”

Hunk smiled, but it wasn’t quite as bright as Pidge would have expected.  “Yeah.  It’s really nice, and all the people are great.”

“But?” Pidge blurted, and as soon as it was out of her mouth Hunk looked awkward and she wished he had kept her mouth shut.

Hana touched her son’s shoulder.  “But we’re not ready to write the check for the deposit just yet.”

“Right, of course,” Sam said, suddenly restrained.  “They haven’t sent the financial aid awards yet.”

Of course it was about money; Pidge was embarrassed that she had forgotten that not only was it more expensive for Hunk to go here, he didn’t have two parents with Master’s degrees who were going to pay for it.  She reached out and took his hand.  “Don’t think about that right now.  This weekend they’re trying to woo us, so let’s just let them show us a good time, yeah?”

Hunk’s expression softened, and he held her fingers firmly.  “Yeah.  Yeah, let’s not worry about money today.”

So they went downstairs to the commons, and after Dad picked out a snack from the food court Pidge let herself start to chatter about the Computer Science department.  She found it easier to process now, after the fact, and it turned out she had a lot to say.  Her enthusiasm rubbed off on Hunk after a bit, and he got going about the student projects he’d seen in Mechanical Engineering that really did sound spectacular, and exactly like the sort of thing that he loved.  The time flew by until Leah and Harji arrived to collect Hunk and Pidge and head back to the dorm.

Pidge was grateful for the opportunity to have a quiet lie-down before dinner.  Leah practically begged Pidge to just take the bed already -- “I’ll sleep in Ivy’s tonight, she’s going to be up all night writing her paper anyway” -- so Pidge got to actually lie flat on her back and read for a while, and for the first time all day her cramps eased off to the point she forgot them.

Leah’s desk was at the foot of the bed, and she was sitting there working on something while Ivy was up on her bed again, listening to technopop at a blessedly quiet volume while she tapped madly at her laptop.  Pidge couldn’t begin to guess what she was writing so furiously.

A knock on the door jerked her awake -- she hadn’t realized she was sleeping, but she had apparently drifted off with the book on her chest.  She pushed up on her elbow and rubbed her eyes as Leah got up to answer the door.

“Hey guys!”  It was Harji, with Hunk right behind him.  “We’re heading to dinner, want to join us?”

Leah pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and flipped it open.  “Oh man, it’s after six already.  Yeah, we should eat.”

“Not now,” Ivy mumbled.  “I’ll go down in a bit.”

Leah walked over to the loft and leaned against the ladder.  “They’re only open until seven.”

“I can hit the cafe later if I miss it.”

“You can’t just eat mozzarella sticks for every meal.”

“You’re not my mom.”

Leah gave a frustrated sigh, but didn’t fight; it occurred to Pidge to wonder if this was the kind of dynamic that roommates usually had, or if her gut was right in telling her that there was something else between these two.  Leah had mentioned sleeping in Ivy’s bed, after all, which seemed pretty intimate.  Pidge knew something about that herself.

Harji and Hunk lingered impatiently in the hall while Pidge and Leah got their shoes on, and they headed down to the dining hall for the second time that day.

Ivy didn’t manage to join them, but the food was good and plentiful, and Pidge got herself a stack of brownies for dessert because she was desperate for chocolate.  Once they were done they headed to the lounge near Harji’s room, where the evening program for the prospective students was beginning to ramp up.  RAs from all over the building had collected board games, and there were already about a dozen people there, many of whom Pidge and Hunk recognized from their activities during the day.  Leah wasn’t interested in the games, but she promised Pidge that the door would be unlocked all night, so she could come back whenever she was ready.

Harji immediately rounded up a guy who was clearly a friend of his, along with two high school students, and started a very intense game of cribbage.  Pidge hadn’t intended to watch, and she didn’t think Hunk had either, but the rhythm of the game patter sucked her in.  By the time the high schoolers had won -- if only barely -- Pidge thought she sort of understood it.  But Hunk noticed a game of Risk about to start, so they got in on that instead while Harji shuffled the cards.

It was not the most successful game of Risk that Pidge had ever played.  Hunk made an excellent strategic move early on, and she never really recovered from that.  Plus he kept sliding his arm around her waist, or her shoulders, or playing with the hair on the back of her neck -- all of which was intensely distracting.  And since she’d had enough ibuprofen that her belly wasn’t in terrible pain, she found herself desperately attracted to him, and more than a little frustrated that there were multiple reasons she wasn’t going to get laid tonight.

At least Hunk didn’t wind up winning the game, which was some consolation.  It was possible that his process of distracting Pidge had distracted him as well -- and when the game was over she turned towards him, and the gentle flush in his cheeks was definitely proof of his interest.

“You gave me a hard time,” she murmured, voice low, and he sucked in a raspy breath.

“Yeah, I did.”

She waggled her eyebrows and grinned, and he turned properly red.  “Oh, Jesus.”

She laughed and leaned into him, pressing her cheek on his shoulder and relishing the contact, the warmth, the marvelous happy effervescence in her chest from the entire day of playing like she was actually in college.  She couldn’t wait until this was actually their lives.

Harji appeared at the table.  “Hey guys, so they’re about to start a movie up on six, if you’re interested.”

“Three movies!” said another guy, popping up behind Harji’s shoulder.  “We’re doing all of the _Star Wars_ prequels if you can make it all the way through.”

The guys they had played Risk against had finished packing up.  “I’m up for _Star Wars_ ,” said the short one, looking around the table.  “You guys?”

“I dunno,” Pidge said.  “I’ve had like the longest day of my life so I’m afraid I’ll only be able to stay awake for the shitty one.”

The all laughed, and Hunk tightened his arm around her shoulder.  “If you fall asleep I’ll wake you up for _Attack of the Clones._ ”

“Wake me up too,” said the guy with the ponytail.  “I drove all the way from Chicago this morning and I don’t mind sleeping through Jar Jar Binks.”

Hunk laughed and patted Pidge to get off him so he could stand up.  “Will do, buddy.”

The lounge upstairs had a number of extra chairs and couches crammed into it, and wasn’t quite full yet when they arrived, though a number of people already had pillows and blankets on the floor in front of the TV.  Hunk got a big armchair way over on the side of the room, and Pidge curled up halfway on his lap.

“This okay?”

“Absolutely.”  He wrapped both arms around her and pressed his nose against her cheek, just barely brushing a kiss to her skin.  “I love cuddles.”

She sighed and let herself melt into his embrace, and after another couple of minutes the RA started the movie.  The beginning was always exciting of course, because it was _Star Wars_ , but it really did go downhill quickly.  Luckily, that was the consensus of the group as well, and there were a number of clever hecklers among them that really made it more interesting.

But even despite the patter, the fact that she was basically on Hunk’s lap was first in her attention.  After maybe half an hour she shifted her posture so she was facing him more, and he met her gaze.

She ran her hand over his chest, playing with the end of his hoodie string.  “I love it here,” she breathed.

He leaned over, brushing his nose to hers.  “So do I.”

She kissed him, sudden and hard, intense and gasping.  He tightened his grip around her body and she brought one hand up to his face, holding him to her and deepening the kiss.  And then he shifted his weight, pressing her into the arm of the chair and _oh god_  she wanted him so badly, so _insanely_ much.  She didn’t really know if making out with him in the middle of a crowd like this -- well, off to the side of the crowd -- was a socially accepted thing, but he didn’t seem to have any reservations and when he dipped his tongue into her mouth, she lost any that she might have still held.

But then she moaned out loud, and even though it was quiet, she knew she’d given them away.  Hunk stilled, and a voice from the other side of the room sailed over:  “Harjinder, isn’t that your prospie?”

“Yeah,” Harji sighed.  “Guys, what are you doing?”

“Sorry,” Hunk mumbled, and Pidge knew it was probably barely audible over the movie.

Pidge’s face was burning, but she couldn’t exactly pretend this hadn’t happened.  “Come on,” she said, with more bravado than she felt.  “Like making out isn’t a million times better than George Lucas’s dialogue.”

There were several hearty laughs, and Harji rolled his eyes, but he was grinning.  Someone threw a piece of popcorn at the screen, and it bounced off Queen Amidala’s hair.  Someone else booed, and the popcorn thrower tried again but the shot changed.

Hunk breathed a deep sigh and glanced at Pidge, who draped her arm over his shoulders and relaxed against him.  “It’s cool,” she whispered, and he nodded.

“You’re good.”

“I know.”  She nuzzled his cheek.  “But also, like, they can know about us.  We’ll probably see most of these people again next year.”

She felt him smiling underneath her touch.  “Yeah.”


	4. Dirty Little Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Dirty Little Secret](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPDcwjJ8pLg)
> 
>  
> 
> New feature! If you don't want to read the smut, click the aleph א when you get to it and AO3 will skip you to when it's (mostly) SFW again.

_I’ll keep you_  
_My dirty little secret_  
_Don’t tell anyone or you’ll be_  
_Just another regret_  
_(Dirty little secret)_  
_(Hope that you can keep it)_  
_(Dirty little secret)  
Who has to know?_

 

It was a rainy Saturday in early April when Pidge’s mother took her shopping at Kohl’s.  With AP exams looming and the end of the school year not long after, they were starting to think about the things that Pidge would need at college, and there were a few areas that her wardrobe was lacking.  Jeans especially, and Pidge was hoping to stock up on underwear too so she wouldn’t have to do laundry as frequently.  Plus Mom seemed to think she needed something pretty -- you know, just in case -- and Pidge was willing to indulge her and try on a dress or two.

The parking lot was packed, and they had to park pretty far back which meant they would get wet on the walk into the store.  Pidge didn’t mind that much, except that these were her only jeans and they were too long, so they would definitely get soaked.  But that’s why they were here, she supposed.

Mom turned off the ignition, and Pidge knew she had to seize the moment if she was going to get this tangent in.  “So, um, before we go in.”

Mom stopped with her hand on the door handle and turned back.  “Yeah?”

Pidge twisted her fingers together in her lap.  She was suddenly much more nervous than she’d expected, but she was determined.  “There’s something I wanted to run by you.”

Mom shifted in her seat, facing Pidge.  “What is it?”

Pidge took a deep breath.  “It’s about me and Hunk.  So, you know … you know that we’ve been sleeping together.”

Mom was quiet for a moment.  “Do you mean sleeping, or do you mean having sex?”

“Having sex.”  Pidge’s face burned.  “I mean, we’ve slept in the same bed a lot, you already knew that.  But we only started having sex in February.”

“I knew it was happening,” Mom said carefully.  “You know that Hana and I talk about you two.  She knew for sure in March that you and he had gone all the way, but we didn’t know exactly how long it had been by then.”

“Not that long.  But we’re being safe, I promise.”  She took a breath.  “But, um.  We could be even safer.  And like, especially with us going to college in the fall, I’d like to go on the pill so we have a backup method.”

She looked up at her mom, who wore an expression of mild surprise.  “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

Pidge couldn’t read her tone.  “Yeah.”

“Your idea or his?”

“Mine.  I brought it up and he said he’d thought of it but didn’t want to push it on me.”

Mom nodded, and seemed to relax slightly.  “Since you’re legally an adult, you could do this yourself, but I’m glad you came to me.”

Pidge shrugged and tried to act nonchalant.  “It would be on your insurance anyway, so I sort of had to.”

“I do just want to say.”  Mom sat forward a little and rubbed her hand on her thigh, like she was nervous.  “Since it’s come up, you know … Dad and I talk about your relationship with Hunk, especially since you and he are both going to the same college in the fall.  And I know you both really like the school, which is why you both applied, and you were both obviously good enough to get in.  But … we can’t help worrying a little bit that you and him are sort of … tied up in each other.”

“Tied up in each other?”  Pidge couldn’t help feeling a sudden rush of defensiveness.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mom pressed her shoulder into the seat.  “I just mean that you and Hunk have been very close with each other for a very long time.  And I know, I understand you’re best friends, and you have been for years.  But since you’ve become a couple … I just worry sometimes that you might be too dependent on each other.”

“I’m not _dependent_ on him.”  But saying that was a reflex, a denial.  Pidge didn’t know if it was true or not, she didn’t even know how she would know.

“It’s important to make sure that you’re making choices for yourself,” Mom said, and her tone was softer.  “I know you love him and you really want to be with him, but just make sure that your relationship with him doesn’t get in the way of the other experiences you can have, of making new friends when you get to college, and doing things he may not want to do.”

Pidge tried to swallow the lump in her throat.  She’d expected some awkwardness from telling her mother that she was having sex, but she wasn’t expecting to be criticized for loving Hunk _too much_ or whatever this was.  “I will.  I’ll still be myself, even though he’s there too.  I won’t let him hold me back.”

“Thank you, darling.” Mom reached over and patted her knee.  “I’ll call my OB-GYN’s office next week and see when I can get you in.  You’ll need a pelvic exam before they’ll write you the prescription, but you may be able to get away without having a pap smear.”

Pidge’s heart leapt.  “Do you think they’ll get me in soon?”

“I usually get something within one or two weeks.  Why, are you in a rush or something?”  Her tone was gently teasing.

“Well, you know.  I was hoping to get in before my next period so maybe for once I don’t have cramps so bad I can’t walk.  And the fact that they’re really irregular is stressful, so I have no idea when the next one will actually be.”  She couldn’t bring herself to actually mention the pregnancy scare, but hoped that Mom would catch her meaning.

“You’re so young, is it really that bad?”  Mom seemed to have caught on something else.

“I mean, it’s not _that_ bad.  Like I’ve never missed school or anything.”

Mom still looked concerned.  “If you’d have told me sooner I would have taken you just for medical reasons.  You should get that checked to make sure there isn’t something else going on.”

Which introduced a whole new thing to be nervous about, and Pidge had had plenty of that for one morning.  “Well, make me the appointment and I’ll go.  Now let’s get inside and see if we can find jeans.”

Mom gave her a smile and picked up her purse from between the seats.  “All right.  Ready to face the rain?”

“I won’t melt.  Let’s go.”

 

 

Pidge managed to get an appointment with the doctor the very next Friday.  Mom called her out of school for the afternoon -- she told everyone it was a dentist appointment, even Hunk didn’t know the real reason -- and they went out to the office in Brookfield.

Pidge tried very hard not to tremble with nerves.  There were two pregnant women in the waiting room, and she felt like she was being immensely conspicuous, clearly a teenager with her mom seeing a gynecologist and anybody with a brain would know it’s because she wanted to go on the pill because she was having lots of freaky sex.  And while she was having sex, she didn’t think it was really lots, and it definitely wasn’t freaky.

But she didn’t have to wait long, the nurse called her back and took all her vitals, and then sat her down and asked the reason for the visit.

Telling the nurse she wanted birth control was nearly as hard as telling her mother.  She led with the reasons of cramping and irregularity, and tried to shove in the part about having sex at the end.  And then the nurse left, and a couple minutes later Dr. Balsewicz came in and went through everything again, pressing for details on exactly how the heaviness and irregularity of Pidge’s periods affected her life.  Pidge almost thought she wouldn’t get to the part about sexual activity, but of course the doctor wouldn’t miss that, and asked her a few questions: yes he has a penis, yes we use condoms, no he’s never pressured me or hurt me.  Mom chimed in at the end that Pidge and Hunk had been best friends for years before the sex started, and that she and Hunk’s mother were friends too, so nothing happened in either of their houses that was secret from the other.  Pidge felt like this wasn’t quite accurate to what had really happened -- they had tried to be very discreet about their sexual relationship -- but it captured the spirit and seemed to set the doctor at ease.

Then they got into the part that Pidge had come for: actually talking about birth control.  Pidge had done her research and knew that the pill was what she wanted, so it only took them a minute to agree that it would work the best to manage Pidge’s dysmenorrhea and fit into her lifestyle.

“Very good.  We’ll go ahead and do your physical next.”  The doctor gave Pidge a look like she was asking something very important.  “Do you want your mom in the room for this part?  Since you’re eighteen you can be alone if you want.”

Pidge shook her head quickly.  “No, I want her here.”

Mom gave her a gentle smile.  “I can step out while you change, if you like.”

“No, it’s okay.  It’s not like you’ve never seen me naked.”

“All right,” the doctor said, standing up and smoothing the front of her pants.  “There’s a gown on the table right behind you, take off all your clothes and then put the drape on with the opening in back.”

Pidge nodded, and tried to swallow the knot of nerves in her throat.  “Okay.”

Mom pulled out a magazine while Pidge changed, and after a couple of minutes the doctor came back and performed the exam.  It was uncomfortable, which Pidge had expected, though she couldn’t have anticipated the exact sensations.  At least _uncomfortable_ was the worst of it, nothing really hurt, and Mom sat next to her with a hand on her shoulder the whole time while the doctor explained everything as she did it.

And then it was over, and Pidge got dressed again before the doctor returned once more and wrote the prescription for birth control pills.

Pidge felt weird when they were leaving, kind of relieved but also still a bit shaky and nervous.  But she agreed to going out to a late lunch, so Mom dropped off the prescription at the pharmacy and then took her to the sandwich shop down the block.

Once she was in a familiar place, Pidge felt much more like herself, and ordered a rueben with fries.  Mom asked her when she thought she would take the pills, since they were supposed to be at the same time every day.

“Oh, well … maybe lunchtime?  I’m always awake by then, even on the weekend.  I can start tomorrow.”

Mom raised her eyebrows.  “You’ll take them to school?”

Pidge shrugged.  “Sure.  I’ll just keep them in my backpack and take it right before I go to fifth hour.  I always have my backpack so I won’t forget them anywhere.”

Mom nodded, but she still seemed uncertain.  “I’m just nervous about you having them at school.”

“It’ll be fine.  Nobody will even know.”

Mom sighed and fiddled with the straw in her cup.  “Well, all right.  I guess since you’re grown-up enough to be on them now, you’re grown-up enough to be in charge of how you take them.”

Pidge’s chest warmed with pride.  “So I’m not your baby any more?”

Mom chuckled.  “You’ll always be my baby.  And I’m in no hurry to be a grandma, okay?”

Pidge grinned at her.  “I read you loud and clear.”

 

 

Hunk called at 3:30 when he got home from school, and Pidge took the cordless phone into her room and shut the door.

“Hey!  How was your dentist appointment?”

She sat on the bed and folded up her legs.  “Fabricated.  I’m not due at the dentist until the summer.”

He was silent for a second.  “What?”

“Dentist was a cover story.  Mom took me to the gynecologist, I’m on birth control now.”

“Oh!  Oh my gosh, I didn’t realize that would happen so soon.”

“Me neither, but they got me in nice and quick and we picked them up at the pharmacy after.  I start them on Sunday, and after the first week they’ll be effective.”

“Wow,” Hunk breathed.  “So this -- this is really happening.”

“Yeah.”  She smiled, and ran her fingers over the texture of her blanket.  “It’s really happening.”

 

 

Pidge’s plan to take her pill surreptitiously at her locker right before Band worked perfectly -- for four days.

On Friday, Andrea noticed.  Andrea, who had gone to middle school with Pidge and was always one of the popular girls, who was always the one who picked on her, for anything she could think of.  Things had gone fairly well for the past four years of high school, since Pidge was now A Band Kid and there were enough of them that she didn’t particularly stand out.  But Andrea’s current boyfriend Mark had his locker two down from Pidge’s, and Andrea was there when Pidge pulled the blister pack of pills out of her backpack and opened the little plastic case.

“Oh my _god!_ ”

Pidge whipped around, clutching the pack to her chest as her heart thundered.  “What?”

The look on Andrea’s face was pure evil.  “Oh my _god,_ is that what I think it is?”

Andrea’s new best friend Jenny was apparently there too; she stepped around Mark, trapping Pidge against her locker, and grabbed her wrist.  “Holy shit Andrea, good eye!”  She grabbed the pill pack and ripped it out of Pidge’s hand.

“Hey!  That’s mine!”

“Oh-ho, it sure is!”  Jenny said, showing it to Andrea.  Pidge knew they were looking at the pharmacy label, which had her name on it right next to the name of the medication.

Pidge reached for it, but Jenny kept it away.  “Give it back guys, this isn’t funny.”

"Slut!" Jenny spat, through a wicked grin. 

Pidge willed herself not to cry as hard as she could, but the tears welled in her eyes anyway. "I'm not! Give it back!"

"Only sluts are on the pill," Andrea said, smirking as she took the pack from Jenny and held it above her head. 

"That's not true," Pidge begged, and the traitorous tears spilled down her cheeks. "Please give them back."  
  
"Aw, Andrea!" Jenny cooed. "You made the little slut cry!"  
  
Mark crowded up behind Pidge, bumping his folded arms into her shoulders and making her stumble from the unexpected push. "How do you like that, slut?"

"Hey!" Hunks voice boomed down the hallway, and Pidge looked up to see him pushing through the clump of people that had gathered. "What's going on?"

"Oh no, it's your _boyfriend_ ," Andrea sneered. “Is he the only one you’re fucking, or are you sleeping around?”

“Wouldn’t blame her if she was,” Jenny added.

“Shut up!” Pidge cried, but any ferocity she tried to inject into it was lost in her distress. 

"What do you think you're gonna do, big guy?" Mark said, standing up to his full height -- he was an inch taller than Hunk, and although he was less bulky, he was solid muscle. If things got physical they could both do a lot of damage, and the hanging threat of it seized the attention of everyone in the vicinity.  A hush fell over the hallway.  
  
Pidge used the distraction to lunge for her pills in Andrea’s grasp, but Jenny was too quick -- she grabbed Pidge’s hand and twisted as hard as she could. Pidge shrieked in pain as her fingers bent backwards in a way that fingers were definitely never meant to bend, and around her all hell broke loose.

The next thing she heard was Mr. Woodworth’s commanding voice, and his ugly orthopedic shoes were in front of her -- why was she sitting on the floor?  But she was, she was curled into a ball with her good arm over her head and her injured one clutched to her chest.  She looked up and Woody was holding Mark back, and Hunk was up against the lockers a few feet away from her, with both hands covering the lower part of his face.  Frau Keller was talking to him and looking very concerned.

Frau Keller had Pidge’s pack of pills in her hand, and as soon as Pidge started to uncurl she turned away from Hunk to help Pidge to her feet.  “These are yours, Katja,” she said softly, handing her the pill pack, and Pidge stuffed them in the pocket of her hoodie.

“Danke,” she sniffled, and looked at Hunk as Frau Keller returned her attention to him.

There were bright drips of blood on his yellow t-shirt, and Pidge suddenly felt sick as her hand throbbed in pain.  Her vision narrowed, darkening around the edges, and she stumbled towards Hunk, banging her shoulder into the lockers when she lost her balance.

He looked at her over his hands, but his attention was taken by the appearance of Mr. Fitzpatrick behind Frau Keller, holding out a box of Kleenex.  Hunk grabbed several and held them to his face, and when he moved his hands Pidge could see that there was blood all over his nose and mouth.  She almost gagged.

Fitz gave the tissue box to Frau Keller, then went to help Woody escort Mark, Jenny, and Andrea toward the stairs -- going down to the office no doubt.

Frau Keller put her hand on Hunk’s shoulder, and led him to her classroom at the end of the hall.  Pidge followed, and sat down in the desk next to the one where Hunk had dropped.  He was bent over, breathing deeply, still holding the tissues firmly to his face, and now that Pidge was sitting she could see that he was trembling.  Frau Keller went to her desk and picked up the phone, but Pidge couldn’t focus on what she was saying.

Hunk finally looked up at her.  “Are you okay?”

She nodded, then shook her head.  “I’m … my fingers hurt.  And I don’t really know what happened after she got my hand, I sort of … blacked out.”

“I tried to grab your pills and Mark socked me.”

“He actually punched you?  In the face?”

“Yeah.”  He shifted his grip on the tissues.  “I don’t think anything is broken, but _shit_ , it really hurts.”

“It’s really bloody,” Pidge said, wishing she wasn’t picturing it.  “All over.  It looks really bad.”

He closed his eyes and gave a tiny nod.  “Yeah, I’m trying not to think about it.”

Frau Keller hung up the phone and got up from her desk.  “Okay, guys.  Ms. Theodore is with the other three right now and Mr. Welnetz wants to see the two of you.”

Pidge had never been summoned to the office for a disciplinary issue before.  But she felt a little bit vindicated that the others were seeing the assistant principal who was tough on the serious problems, and she was going to see the normal principal, who had been her seventh grade gym teacher.  She felt comfortable around Mr. Welnetz, she trusted him.

The halls were clear as Frau Keller took them downstairs; fifth hour had started.  Mr. Welnetz was waiting by the reception desk when they got there, and Frau Keller came into his office with them.

Pidge had expected to be asked her version of the events first, but instead Frau Keller described their injuries and Mr. Welnetz pulled out a large first aid kit.  He tended carefully to Hunk’s face, cleaning up the blood with alcohol swabs -- at which point Pidge remembered that he used to be the wrestling coach before he became an administrator, so he had definitely dealt with injuries like this in the past.  Maybe that’s why they were the ones seeing him…

Once Hunk was clean, his injuries were visible: a big split nearly in the center of his lower lip which Mr. Welnetz said wouldn’t need stitches, and a bloody nose that was now only slightly oozing.  Hunk got some fresh gauze and assured Mr. Welnetz that his teeth were okay, nothing really painful or loose, and then it was Pidge’s turn.

She gritted her teeth and held her breath as Mr. Welnetz gently examined her hand.  It was still unbelievably painful, and that was definitely not how fingers were supposed to be.

“This is dislocated,” he said softly.  “I can put them back in place but it’s going to really hurt for a second, and I don’t have anything to numb the pain.”

“What’s the alternative?” Frau Keller murmured.

“If I don’t do anything, you’ll need to go to the ER.  But if it’s only a dislocation, which I think it is, the treatment is putting it back and splinting it.”

None of this sounded very good to Pidge.  She tried to take a deep breath.  “Put it back.  I can manage.”  She pressed her good hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, and successfully muffled her yelp of pain, though she was afraid that the _motherfucker_ that followed may have still been fairly distinct.  Once the agony faded enough that she could open her eyes and blink the tears away, her hand looked much more normal again, though still puffy.

Mr. Welnetz got out gauze and tape, and wrapped the two affected fingers to the one next to it.  “This will hold you for now,” he said, “though you should have your parents take you to a doctor for a real splint and an X-ray.  This is just first aid, you need to make sure it heals right.”

Pidge nodded, and glanced at Hunk, who was looking sort of ashen as he stared at her hand.  “I will.”

“Good.”  He folded up the first aid kit and set it on his desk.  “Okay.  Now tell me what happened.”

Hunk and Frau Keller both looked at Pidge.  She swallowed.  “I was taking my pill at my locker, and Andrea saw me.  She used to be a jerk to me all the time in middle school, and she hasn’t done anything for a while but she saw this and she grabbed my pills.  I tried to get them back and Jenny grabbed my hand and … did this.  I don’t remember what happened next, until Mr. Woodworth and Frau Keller were there.”

“Why would Andrea take your medicine?” Mr. Welnetz asked, and Pidge couldn’t tell if he really didn’t know, or if he just wanted her to say it.  In her peripheral vision, Hunk folded his arms uncomfortably and hunched down.

She looked at Frau Keller -- she knew, and she gave Pidge a gentle nod.  “It’s birth control,” Pidge said softly.

Mr. Welnetz made a quiet _Oh!_ sound and sat back slightly.  “I understand.  Had she said or done anything about them before?”

“No.”  Pidge shook her head.  “I -- I only started on them this week.  Nobody knew.”

Mr. Welnetz looked at Hunk, and Pidge’s ears burned at being caught in a little lie she hadn’t even realized she was telling.  “You and Katie have been dating for a while, right?” Mr. Welnetz asked.

Hunk nodded, and cleared his throat awkwardly.  “Yeah.  Um.  I mean, I knew she was on the pill, she told me.  I didn’t know she took it at school.”

“It was clearly a mistake,” Pidge grumbled.  “Won’t be doing that again.”

“So, Tsuyoshi,” Mr. Welnetz said, “tell me about your involvement in what happened upstairs.”

“I just left calculus and I saw people crowded around Pi-- around Katie’s locker, and I heard her saying something and she sounded upset.”  He unfolded his arms and dabbed at his nose with the gauze for a second.  “I don’t usually go that way but I was worried, and when I got close Mark got in my face.  I don’t really know what happened after that, it all happened so fast.”  He twisted the gauze in his hands, and everyone was quiet as they waited for him to continue.  “I grabbed the pill pack from Andrea after I saw Katie go for it, but then she screamed and Mark hit me and the next thing I knew, Mr. Woodworth was pulling him off me.”

“Did you know they were Katie’s pills?”

“I mean, I didn’t _know_ , but I knew what they were so I figured they were hers.  And she wouldn’t have been trying to get them if they weren’t hers, she doesn’t want anything to do with Andrea.”

“I see.  And Kim, it was at this point that you got involved?”

Frau Keller nodded.  “Yeah.  Once Barry got Mark off Tsuyoshi I stepped in to see to him, he was pretty wobbly and bleeding a lot.  I took the pill pack from him and gave them to Katie when she got up.”

Mr. Welnetz looked at Pidge.  “Got up?  Had you fallen down?”

She shrugged awkwardly.  “I don’t remember.  I ended up kind of sitting against the lockers at some point.”

“But you have your pills now?”

“Yeah.”  She pulled them out of her pocket for a moment before she stuffed them back in.  “They’re safe.”

“Good.”  He sighed, and rubbed his hands on his knees, and at that moment the bell rang for the end of A lunch.  “All right, I need to go talk to Ms. Theodore.  Katie and Tsuyoshi, you can go sit by reception, but you’re not released yet.  Kim, thanks for coming down but I’ll let you go now and actually have the rest of your prep.”

“Okay.”  She got up slowly.  “Take care, you two.  Bis Montag, Katja.”

“Danke,” Pidge said, and tried to smile, but didn’t really manage it.  “Bis dann.”

So Frau Keller left, and Mr. Welnetz herded them out to the reception desk where Miss B. had ice packs for both of them.  They sat in silence, ignoring the people going by outside in the hall until the second bell rang.  They didn’t speak as they iced their respective injuries, but Pidge sat as close to Hunk as she could and leaned on him.  She was sure he felt horrible about this, that he thought the whole thing was his fault because none of this would have happened if Pidge wasn’t on the pill, and she wouldn’t be on the pill if he wasn’t fucking her.

But that was her choice as much as it was his, and it had been entirely Pidge’s choice to bring the pills to school.  Her mom had been right after all.

Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem at all if Andrea wasn’t such a heinous bitch.  Pidge actually knew of a couple other girls who were on the pill, one who had been a bassoonist and graduated two years ago, and one in her German class who had actually missed school two or three days a month because her periods were so bad, before she started on the medication last year.  And those were only the ones Pidge knew about, and she knew there was always way more going on than she was aware of because she really lived in her own bubble.

The minutes stretched on, and the cold slowly seeped into Pidge’s injured hand, numbing the pain to a degree.  Hunk kept repositioning his ice pack on his face, alternating between his lip and his nose.

“How are you doing?” she finally murmured, and he glanced at her.

“I’ve been better.”

She gave him a sad smile.  “Well, yeah.  But it doesn’t hurt too bad, does it?”

“It’s the most my face has ever hurt,” he mumbled around the ice.  “Mr. Welnetz said I won’t need stitches but I feel like my lip is going to be a problem for a while.  I won’t be able to play at rehearsal until it’s healed, even talking hurts.”

“God, I’m so sorry.  What about your nose?”

He shrugged.  “It’s okay.  It was already pretty flat, I guess.”

Pidge cringed; in middle school Hunk had suffered a fair bit of teasing for his Pacific islander heritage.  Nobody did it any more, but it had clearly stuck with him.  “You have a good nose,” she said quietly.

He made a face that might have been a smile, but was mostly grimace.  “Sure.”

Pidge didn’t know what to say to that, so she leaned on him again, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

Mr. Welnetz came back out a few minutes later and sat down next to Pidge.  “All right, we got to the bottom of it.  You guys are not in trouble, but since you were involved and you got hurt I’d like to call your parents.  But I know you’re both eighteen, so I won’t if you don’t want me to.  You can decide if you want to stay here for the rest of the day or go home early.”

“I want to go home,” Hunk said immediately.  “You can call my mom, but she’s at work right now so you won’t get her.  She’ll get the message on the machine if you leave one, though.”

Mr. Welnetz nodded.  “What about you, Katie?”

“You can call my mom too.”  She looked down at her hand.  “I can’t do anything with this hand anyway, so I might as well go home and take something for it.  I think my mom is home this afternoon, she’ll probably come get us.”

“Sounds good.”  He got up.  “Hang out here a little longer, I’m going to call from my office and come back.”

He wasn’t long at all, maybe five minutes, and he looked satisfied when I reappeared.  “All right, Katie, your mother is on her way.  Tsuyoshi, I left a message like you said.  Are you going to go with Mrs. Holt when she gets here?”

“I guess so,” Hunk said.  “My mom has the car today and I don’t want to walk home.”

“Okay, good.  I just want to be sure you have someone to look after you for a little while.”  He put his hand in his pocket, and his posture relaxed.  “The bell for C lunch is about to go, why don’t you both go get your things before that happens and come back here.”

So they gave him back the ice packs, and Pidge went upstairs to her locker while Hunk headed to the science wing for his.  The bell rang while she was there -- it was hard packing her things with her dominant hand out of order, and Mr. Woodworth stopped to check on her -- but she got everything together and made her way back down to the office.

Hunk was already there, and had clearly run into Lance at some point since they were lingering in the hall by the office door and Lance was talking quickly, visibly agitated.  Hunk spotted Pidge first, and Lance turned to see her.  “Shit, Pidge!  There you are.  Hunk was telling me what happened, are you okay?”

She shrugged.  “I’m all right, but my hand hurts like a bitch.”

“We missed you in Band.  The Grainger sounds like shit without you.”

Pidge laughed, and she even caught Hunk doing his best to smile.  “You guys will have to improve, then,” Hunk said.  “I can’t play until this crap with my face is healed, and Pidge has two fingers in a splint.”

Pidge held up her hand to show the mass of gauze and tape, and Lance’s eyes widened.  “Shit, you really do.”

“Uh-huh.”

The second bell rang, and Lance sighed.  “I need to go eat lunch.  Take care, okay?”

“We will,” Hunk said, patting him on the shoulder, and Pidge accepted a gentle hug from Lance before he headed off for the cafeteria.

They went back into the office, and Miss B. gave them the ice packs again for the few minutes before Pidge’s mother arrived.  She hugged both of them more tightly than they would have liked, then drove them to Pidge’s house and made a frozen pizza while Pidge got them both ibuprofen in an attempt to take down the swelling.  Hunk had a hard time with his glass of water and the food, but he managed it in the end, and then they both collapsed into the couch.

 

 

By Saturday morning, Pidge’s pain was manageable and the swelling had gone down a bit, but Dad took her to the urgent care anyway.  She got an X-ray and a real splint, and instructions to compliment Mr. Welnetz on his dexterity at realigning her bones.

At school on Monday, it seemed like everybody knew what had happened.  There was entirely too much whispering for Pidge’s taste, and Hunk seemed on edge as well, ready to fight.  His situation was further complicated by the fact that his injury was plain on his face, so he got a lot of staring: the bridge of his nose was badly bruised, and he was pretty well black-and-blue under both eyes, plus the bright red wound on his lip, which was still more swollen than usual.

Tuesday evening was UWAY rehearsal, and even though neither of them could actually play, the concert was coming up in just a few weeks so they did have to physically attend rehearsal.  Hunk left his tuba at school, but Pidge figured she would bring her bassoon and at least do the articulation on her bocal, even if she couldn’t do the fingering correctly.

The rest of her section noticed the splint, obviously, so she told them the short version of what had happened which didn’t mention birth control pills.  Peter shared the story of when he had dislocated a finger the previous year in gym class, and commiserated with her about the slow healing.

And then Dr. Becker came in with his arms full of scores, and once he had arranged himself at the podium his attention fell on the tuba section.

"Tsuyoshi, where's your horn?"

Pidge resisted the urge to turn and look at him, and dropped her injured hand to try and hide it.  Behind her, Hunk cleared his throat.  "I'm sorry, maestro, I busted my lip and I can't play."

Dr. Becker raised his eyebrows.  "Can you sing?"

"Yes, sir."  The relief in Hunk’s voice was palpable.  And he did have a lovely singing voice.

This was all going much more smoothly than Pidge had feared.  Maybe they’d both been worried for nothing, and if she was lucky she’d have her splint off in time for the concert.

 

 

By Friday the bruising on Hunk’s face was completely invisible again, and although he still hadn’t played his tuba, his lip looked normal.  He kissed Pidge at her locker before Band — Mark, Andrea, and Jenny had in-school suspension — and when she went to his house after school he kissed her on the couch much more thoroughly than he would dare to in public.

It was heavenly.  She hadn’t expected to miss it that much, but her lips had become absolutely parched for his.

When they finally came up for air, her shirt was pushed almost over her breasts, and Hunk’s hair was disheveled and tangled in her splint.  He giggled while she freed it, and then leaned in for a quick peck.  “What do you say we take this to my bedroom?” he breathed.

“I was hoping you would ask.  We’ve got some time before my mom comes to pick me up.”

Hunk scooped her up in his arms without warning, and Pidge laughed as he careened around the corner and down the hall to his room, where he plopped her on the bed.  She sat up as well as she could without bumping her still-injured fingers.  “Guess what.”

Hunk blinked at her.  “What?”

“I can’t get pregnant.”

A smile bloomed across his face.  “It’s been long enough?”

“Yeah, a week is the minimum.”

He dropped to his knees above her and crushed a kiss against her, though he backed off again immediately.  “Ow.”

Pidge laughed.  “Still hurts?”

“Just a little.”  He kissed her again, a little less hard.  “Not enough to make me stop.”

“Okay, good.”א

He resumed his attentions, and Pidge relaxed back into his pillows as he slowly undressed her, pressing fluttery kisses over every inch of skin that he uncovered.  By the time he got her down to just her panties she’d had more than enough of the slow version, and grabbed at the shoulder of his shirt with her good hand.  “Come on.”

He looked up at her with a grin.  “Be patient.  I want to try something, if you’re good with it.”

She was about to ask what, but then he kissed the skin just above her underwear, and by the time he grabbed the elastic with his teeth she no longer cared that he was still fully clothed.  She spread her legs as he settled on the mattress before her and ran his fingers over her vulva, and she trembled at his touch.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, his breath warm on her sensitive skin.

“Yes, oh my god yes.”  She pressed her head back into the pillow, then picked it up and tried to look down at him -- but his mouth disappeared and the overwhelming sensation of his touch was completely incompatible with any kind of effort on her part.

He kissed her thoroughly, exploring every fold with his lips and tongue until she was losing her mind, desperate to kiss him and take him inside her.  “Okay,” she gasped, trying to grab for his hair.  “Okay, come on.”

He picked his head up, and his mouth and chin glistened with moisture.  “Okay what?”

“I need you to fuck me,” she begged.  “ _Please,_ Hunk.”

He crawled up her body and kissed her, and with the touch and the scent and the _flavor_ it was entirely new.  She tried to wrap her legs around him and pull him down on top of her, but instead he sat back on his heels and opened up his pants.  His cock bounced free, already hard and flushed with desire, and Hunk leaned over to get a condom out of his bedside table and then rolled it on with practiced ease.

Pidge sat up as best she could and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down so she could kiss him and let out some of the intensity that was overflowing from her body.  He covered her with himself and thrust inside as easily as anything and _holy god_ it felt as good as it ever had.

“You’re amazing,” she mumbled against Hunk’s face, and he pushed up so he could see her, but kept the rhythm with his hips.

He grinned, looking a little bit loopy.  “I try.”

Pidge laughed, grabbed his hips with both hands -- which she quickly discovered was a mistake, because that finger that got dislocated still liked to randomly hurt.  She sucked in a little gasp of pain, and Hunk’s motion came to an abrupt stop.  “What?  What is it, are you hurt?”

And then suddenly, it was the funniest thing in the entire world, and she laughed.  “No!  Just my stupid finger, it’s fine.”  She held the hand up to his face, and he kissed her palm as he rolled his hips into her.

The motion was just right to rub against her g-spot, and for a heady moment she thought she was about to come.  She didn’t, but the wanting of it was so strong she forgot everything except him, above her and inside her, hot and rhythmic, taking pleasure of his own even as he gave it to her and _god_ it was a magnificent thing, the simultaneous giving-and-taking that they had found in this together.

She remembered he was still wearing his pants, and the heaviness in her belly burned even hotter.  He was so excited, so turned on by her that he couldn’t even take the time to undress before he had her.  He had liked giving her oral so much that he couldn’t wait.

And then she did come, with his pelvis bumping her clit and his cock rubbing inside her, she filled her lungs with air and sobbed for the exquisite agony of it all.  And he moved faster, and she peaked again as he pounded roughly into her and then she heard his groan of ecstasy, that cry of completion that he only made for her and _she loved him_ , she loved him more than everything and she never wanted to feel anything but this.

He laid down gingerly, half atop her and half on the mattress, breathing heavily.  Pidge wrapped her arms around his neck and held him as tightly as she could, brushing tiny kisses to his hairline.  After a minute of that he pursed his lips and kissed what skin of hers he could reach, which happened to be her breast.  The touch was feather light, and she giggled.

Hunk tipped his face up towards her and blew a raspberry on her chin.  “Am I tickling you?” 

Pidge pushed her fingers into his hair.  “Yes!”

He wrapped his big arm around her whole body and pulled her to him, nuzzling his face into her throat and humming happily.  “You know what I love?”

“Me?”

He laughed, hearty and full, shaking both of them.  “Well, yes, but that’s not what I was gonna say.”

“Okay, what else do you love?”

“Not worrying.”  He let go of her a little bit, and pulled back so he could look at her face.  “Now that we’ve got backup birth control, nothing about making love to you freaks me out.”

“You were freaked out before?”

“I freak out about everything, man.  But it wasn’t enough to stop me, you’re too sexy.”

“That’s fair.”

He leaned in and kissed her chin.  “But I’m really glad you did all that and got on the pill.  I just … it’s such a relief.”

“I know, it really is.”  She bent down and kissed his forehead, then his nose.  “I still want to keep using condoms, though.”

“Oh, of course.  Me too.  No chances at all, right?”

“Right.”

“Speaking of condoms,” he said, relaxing his grip on her.  “I don’t think I told you how my mom figured out we were having sex.”

“Oh no.”  Pidge couldn’t help grinning, even though she had a strong feeling of where this was going.

“Yeah.  I guess when we did it after we got back from the UP, I didn’t wrap the used condom in tissue well enough so it got stuck to the inside of the trash can in the bathroom.”

“Oh no!”  Pidge covered her face with her hand.  “Oh god, I feel bad laughing, but that’s really funny.”

“I mean, it _is_ funny.  Even though it was totally mortifying at the time.”

“And she was cool?  My mom said that your mom told her when she had figured it out.”

“Oh yeah, she was cool.  She asked me to be more careful in the future because she doesn’t want to have to touch used condoms, but she doesn’t mind that we’re having sex since she knows we’re being safe.”

“That’s good.  My mom said basically the same, and Dad hasn’t talked to me about it but I think that’s just because he’s awkward.”

Hunk chuckled.  “Yeah, he is.”

“Did your mom ask you when we first went all the way?”

“No, she actually told me she didn’t want to know.  Did yours?”

“Yeah.  And like, I didn’t tell her exactly when, because I am a little embarrassed it was for Valentine’s Day.  But I told her it hadn’t been long before your mom found out.”

He smiled gently at her.  “You’re embarrassed that it was Valentine’s Day?”

Pidge rolled her eyes.  “It’s such a fucking cliche.”

“Better than after Prom.”

“Well, it does help that neither of us has ever _been_ to Prom.  Or Homecoming, or anything like that.”  She nudged him to get off her so she could sit up.  “I gotta clean up.  You should decide if you’re wearing clothes or not, you look weird.”

He flopped into the wall and affected a pose -- he was bare from mid-thigh to his waist, and his pubic hair was damp around the base of his cock.  “What, you’re not turned on by this?”

She tried not to laugh, but it came out through her nose.  “I mean, I kinda liked it in the moment, but … no.”  She found her underwear halfway under the bed and slipped them on, then threw a little smile over her shoulder.  “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here.”  He wiggled his eyebrows like he didn’t know how to operate them, and Pidge laughed again as she stepped into the hall.

 

* * *

 

 

_[On Friday, he kissed Pidge at her locker before Band.](https://ladymac111-draws.tumblr.com/post/168101246517/on-friday-he-kissed-pidge-at-her-locker-before) _


	5. Church On Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (please see the previous chapter for a drawing!)
> 
> [Church On Sunday](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4UE0U3V3rmM)
> 
> New feature! If you don't want to read the smut, click the aleph א when you get to it and AO3 will skip you to when it's (mostly) SFW again.

_Today is the first day of the rest of our lives_  
_Tomorrow is too late to pretend everything's all right_  
_I'm not getting any younger as long as you don't get any older  
I'm not going to state that yesterday never was_

 _If I promise to go to church on Sunday_  
_Will you go with me on Friday night?_  
_If you live with me, I'll die for you  
And this compromise_

  
Pidge finished her last AP exam about five minutes before Hunk did, and she was hanging out in the commons below the library when he handed his in. Sixth hour was close to over, but they still had ten minutes to kill before they were expected in the last class of the day. Or, Pidge was expected in Calculus; Hunk just had his Band independent study, and Mr Smythe didn’t care much if he was late.

She glanced up from her book when he got close. “Hey! How’d it go?”

He shrugged. “Hard to say. I feel like essays are always my weak spot. How about you?”

She held up her still-splinted left hand. “I’m holding out some hope that they can’t quite read my writing and give me a good score just because. But it’s not like AP lit is going to mean a lot at Michigan Tech.”

Hunk’s stomach turned over; it was time to tell Pidge the thing that had been in the back of his mind since March, that he had finally decided on last week. He sat down gingerly on the bench next to her. “So, about that.”

“Yeah, did you send your deposit and forms in yet? We’re almost at the deadline.”

He shook his head and swallowed hard. “No. Actually ... I’m not going to Tech.”

Her head whipped around towards him, and she was silent for a long, horrible moment. “ _What?_ “

He had a difficult time getting the words out.  “It was really tough, but I decided I can’t go there. It's just too expensive and too far.”

Her eyes were wide, and horror was slowly creeping over her face. “You ... you can’t _go_? So what are you going to do?”

Hunk tried to swallow, but it stuck in his throat. “I'm going to UWM instead.  I’m going to keep living at home.”

“You're leaving me?” Her voice was rising, and tears were welling in her eyes. It was exactly as he had feared.

“I mean, technically you're the one who's leaving...”

She snapped instantly to anger. “Don't fucking turn this on me! We were going to go together!”

“Pidge, not so loud.”

“Don’t think like you can tell me what to do!” But she was softer, and when she squeezed her eyes shut, tears rolled down her cheeks.  She gasped a shuddering breath. “How ... I don’t understand. How did this happen?”

“I didn’t get the financial aid I needed.” Fuck, he was starting to cry too. “It’s too expensive, I can’t justify it. And it’s so far away from my mom, I’m all she’s got. I can’t leave her.”

Pidge shook her head, looking at her knees as more tears fell. “I just -- I really thought we wanted to go together.”

“I know, and I want to go with you _so_ badly, but … I just can’t.” He sniffed and wiped his eyes.  “We .. back when we were applying, we said we’d both pick and if it happened then it happened.  But it’s not going to happen.”

“I know.  God, I know, but … you know, back then it didn’t seem _real_ .  But now we’ve been up to Tech together, I’ve seen it, I feel like I know what it’ll be like to be there and I know what it’ll be like with _you_.”

“I’m so sorry, Pidge.”  His voice broke a little.  “I hate doing this, but... this is the choice I’ve made. It’s the choice I had to make.”

She nodded, still not looking at him, then clenched her jaw and stood up.  “I understand.”

“Pidge--“

She shouldered her backpack and didn’t turn around.  “I have to go to class. I’ll talk to you later.”

And then she walked away across the commons, and Hunk was left alone, and feeling as literally gutted as he’d ever felt, like his intestines had been ripped out and his inside was a hollow shell.

He covered his face with his hands and bent down over his knees, and the sobbing was instant, horrible, uncontrollable.  Why did it feel so absolutely abysmal to do the thing he had decided was right?  Why did his heart and his logic have to be on opposite sides of this?  Usually his gut was right, it backed him up, but this time it was screaming, _screaming_ that this was the worst mistake of his life.

He’d talked it over with Mom so many times, again and again over the last few months, and they spent a good hour and a half on Sunday afternoon when he’d made his final choice, and packed up his acceptance materials for UWM and put it in the mailbox.

This had to be the right choice.  UWM was close, just a half-hour drive from home, and with in-state tuition and no room and board fees, he would barely have to take any loans at all.  Plus he could keep his job at Sendik’s, work part-time to help finance his education.  And he _would_ get a good education, it was the University of Wisconsin and that was nothing to sneeze at.  Just because they didn’t specialize in engineering didn’t mean he couldn’t get a good degree in it anyway.

But _god_ , how was he going to do _anything_ without Pidge by his side?

That was another thing Mom had talked to him about.  Because when he was honest -- and he always tried to be honest with his mom -- being with Pidge was the top reason he wanted to go to Tech.  The school itself was a very, very close number two, but that’s how his heart’s ranking fell out.

Mom had tried to say to him that maybe it would be a good thing, having this separation from Pidge.  His whole life had revolved around her for so long, she was his first friend in the States and his only true friend for all of sixth and seventh grade.  She was almost a security blanket.  And maybe it was time to set that security aside, to step out on his own, to be his own man and make his own way in the world.

Not that he thought he _wasn’t_ his own self when he was with Pidge.  But then again, how could he know?  How could he be sure?  Maybe two weeks after she moved away he’d discover something about himself he hadn’t even imagined.

 _Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong_ , cried his gut.   _Pidge brings the_ _you_ _out of you._

He didn’t know what to think any more.  This had gone absolutely horrendously but there wasn’t any fixing it, this particular rift between them was set in stone.  If he was lucky she wouldn’t stay angry for long, they’d be able to make up and enjoy the next several months and then build a long-distance relationship.  And then after college, who knew?

God, _after college_ was so far away.  He couldn’t even conceive of life after college.  He could barely wrap his mind around life after school today and that was only an hour from now.

The bell rang.  Above him in the library, the last few people in the AP Literature exam were handing in their materials.

He sat up.  Tuba time.  Mr. Smythe might not care much when he showed up or what he did with his hour, but he was actually supposed to be there.

He dragged himself down to the music wing.  Mr. Smythe and Mr. T were talking about something in their office, and neither looked up when Hunk went into the band room.

What in the world was he going to do with himself in here for an hour?  Thoughts of Pidge were absolutely inescapable in the band room, he’d been in here with her every fucking day -- well, every school day -- for the past four years of their lives.  He’d fallen in love with her while she sat in the row ahead of him, whispering with her when they were tacet, standing side-by-side and playing as loud as possible during pep band rehearsals.  He remembered freshman band camp, him trying to get used to wearing a sousaphone, and her acting like she knew exactly how to play the quad toms when she had no idea and kept smacking her fingers on the rims.  One of her pinkies was permanently slightly crooked.

And then recently, he’d kissed her in here an awful lot.  In the back row, against the big lockers, in the secret stairs, even with her sitting in his lap on a sousaphone chair once.  The first time she’d hesitantly put her hand against his erection through his pants had been while they were sitting on the floor in front of the sheet music cabinet, seeing how much they could get away with before someone else showed up for the basketball game that evening.

Nearly every piece of music he’d ever played had been with her.  In middle school, here, at UWAY, in the various honors bands they’d always both managed to get into.

Pidge _was_ music.

He snapped back into his body suddenly; he was standing in the middle of the second row, staring into space.  His backpack was still in his hand.  He felt sick to his stomach.

It took a monumental effort to turn his head and look at the clock above the blackboard.  The bell had apparently rung without him hearing it, and he’d been here for ten minutes.

He took a moment to gather himself and trudged over to his usual spot, and got down to sit on the floor.  He supposed he could work on his Spanish homework -- or at least try to.  He got out his notebook and the handout but he couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t get the letters on the page to arrange into anything that made sense.  So instead he put the notebook on his lap and slouched and just let himself stare into space again, his eyes unfocused on the dingy blue-grey carpet.

After a bit, Mr. Smythe came in.  “Hello, Hunk.  Not practicing today?”

Hunk put on his most _okay_ face.  “No, trying to do Spanish homework.”

“All right.  I’ve got a project for you, but it can wait until tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

And he left again.  Ten minutes remained in seventh hour.

Hunk wished he could cry.  He certainly felt like it, but the shock of Pidge’s reaction had apparently rendered him incapable.  And as the minutes ticked down to the end of the school day, he felt progressively queasier.  He was supposed to be Pidge’s ride home today, but he didn’t know if she would show.  But what else could she do?  But if she was still angry, would giving her a ride be worse than her not showing up at all?

The bell rang, and the school reverberated with thousands of footsteps.  Every time he heard someone come down the music wing he looked at the door, but it was somebody going past, and then a couple of sophomores to get their flutes, and then Mr. T. coming into the band room to steal some chalk.

But then it was Pidge.

She stepped through the door slowly, and she looked upset still, but to Hunk’s immense relief she didn’t seem to be angry.  “Hi.”

“Hi.”  He swallowed hard.  “Ready to go?”

She stepped into the room.  “Yeah, but … I want to talk first.  And it’s quiet here.”

He picked up his notebook and folded it shut -- he hadn’t written a word.  “Okay.”

She crossed the room, and when she got close he could see that her eyes were slightly swollen, like she’d been crying but trying to hide it.  His heart ached.

Pidge turned a chair around to face him and sat down on the edge of it.  “So, um.  I’m sorry about how I reacted earlier.”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly.  “I don’t blame you.”

“Thanks.”  She looked down at her hands, and picked at a cuticle.  “I … I couldn’t stop thinking about this in class.  And, you know … I understand why you made this decision.”

“I wish I didn’t have to,” he said.  “I wish that there was something else I could do, something I could unlock that would magically let me afford it.  But we’ve spent months looking, and there’s just … there’s nothing.  The only option would be to take on a ridiculous amount of debt.”

Pidge shook her head.  “I don’t want you to have to do that.  And with your mom co-signing … I can’t possibly ask you to do that to her.”

“I know.  She’s making enough sacrifices as it is.”

Pidge choked on a little sob, and covered her mouth with her hand. “I don’t want to be like this right now. I just want to be in love with you.”

Hunk hauled himself to his knees and pressed as close to her as he could get, one hand on her hip and the other on the side of her face. “Me too. That’s all I want, Pidge, and I want us to stay together. We can make the long distance thing work.”

She looked up at him, and her eyes were wet but she was trying miserably to smile. “If anyone can, it’s us.”

“Exactly. And we’ll have breaks and summer, and phones and the internet.”  He caressed her cheek with his thumb.  “It’ll be okay.”

She nodded, sniffed wetly, swallowed. “We’ll make it work.”

He leaned in and kissed her tenderly on the corner of her mouth, and then she turned to catch his lips for a firm kiss, a meaningful one, a serious one. Hunk couldn’t bear to pull away when their lips parted, so he set his forehead against hers, holding her there with a hand on the back of her neck as they both breathed heavily.

Someone came in the band room, and he released her — it was two of the three junior trumpets. Pidge wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “We should go to your locker.”

Hunk collected his things, and Pidge followed him to his locker.  They didn’t speak in the hall, or on the way out to the car.  Once Pidge got in the passenger side and shut the door, Hunk cleared his throat.

“So, do I need to take you home, or is your mom going to get you from my house?”

Pidge leaned into her hand and rubbed her eye.  “God, what day is it?  Thursday?”

“Yeah.”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, and then they popped open.  “Oh!  Right.  I’m going to the doctor to get my fingers checked out one last time, so she’s picking me up from your house.”

Hunk let his breath out in a gust, and put the key in the ignition.  “Okay.”

It was a short drive, as always, though it was made so much longer by the fact that Pidge was more closed off than she’d ever been; Hunk could still feel that wedge he’d driven between them.  They’d sort of made up now, but he knew in his gut it wasn’t a real reconciliation.  He’d hurt Pidge badly, and surprised her with it to boot.  It was going to take both of them a while to get used to this new reality, and he had to remember that he’d had a big head start over her.  She was going to need time and space.

Once they got in the house they didn’t really know what to do; normally they’d be riding that slight elation of finally getting out of school, and they’d make out on the couch for a bit.  But today Hunk was definitely not going to try to touch Pidge, not unless she made the first move.

After an awkward couple of minutes, Pidge curled up on the end of the couch and looked across the house at Hunk, who was rattling around in the kitchen cabinets, looking for something that they could snack on but absolutely failing to find anything appetizing.

“Come sit with me,” Pidge said softly.

He froze for a second, and closed the cabinet a bit too forcefully before he came into the living room and sat down on the couch opposite her.  “How’re you doing?”

She shrugged, and stretched out one leg, brushing her toes against his knee.  “I don’t know.”

He felt like he should apologize.  “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes flicked up at his, and they were filled with sadness.  “For what?”

“For all of this.”  He set his hand on the top of her foot, and she curled her toes.  “For messing everything up, for entertaining the idea of us both going to Tech for so long when there was such a strong chance it wouldn’t work out.”

“I can’t blame you for that.”  She turned to face him fully, and looked down at her hands in her lap, fiddling with the splint.  “I knew you hadn’t decided, I knew you were trying to work out the money thing.  I shouldn’t have set my heart on it.”

“But it’s okay that you did.  I did too.”

She grimaced.  “We fucked up.”

Hunk’s chest squeezed.  “Maybe.”

She took a deep breath in through her nose, and raised her chin determinedly, leveling her gaze at him.  “Do you want to go to Prom?”

It was possibly the greatest non-sequitur of Hunk’s life.  “I what?”

“Prom, you know, a popularity contest followed by a fashion show and horrible music.”

“I know what Prom _is_ , you nutty bar, it’s the you wanting to go that I’m struggling with.”

She shrugged, and her expression warmed a little.  “I dunno, I just thought … it’s one of those high school things, right?  Our friends are going, and it’s an excuse to spend an evening with you and look fancy and take pictures.  I want to have a gajillion pictures of you.”

Hunk had a sudden, massive flash of it -- a magical night with Pidge and their friends, her all dressed up, laughing, taking photos for him to keep when she moved away.  It was such a beautiful idea he didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it.  “That sounds awesome.”

She smiled, and it was finally genuine and she was _so beautiful_ he could have cried.  “Cool.  Do you want to buy the tickets, or should I?”

They were already selling tickets at lunch -- then again, it was only two weeks away.  “I don’t have cash right now and I don’t get paid until next week, can you do it?”

“Sure.”

“I mean, I feel like I should be the one paying….”

“Why?”  She leaned forward and folded her arms on top of her knees.  “Subvert the heteronormative paradigm!”

He couldn’t help laughing fondly.  “Right, of course.  Are we going to do flowers?  Like, a corsage and stuff?”

“We don’t have to.  They can be expensive.  And the heteronormative paradigm thing.”

“I think it would be worth it, though.  And I’m sure they could do something on a budget.”

She shrugged.  “I’m game if you are.”

“Okay.  Do you have any colors I should be asking them to match?”

“God, no; do I look like I planned this?  I don’t have a dress or anything.  But I bet Mom will take me shopping after the doctor today.”

Hunk’s heart fluttered as he pictured her in a fancy dress again.  “Sounds good.”

She looked down at her arms, suddenly a little awkward, and he thought he saw a gentle flush in her cheeks.  “Boy, today is going to be a lot to explain.”

Shit, it sure was -- she was about to have to tell everything to her mom, and Hunk would have to tell his mom too, when she got home.  They’d had an emotional roller coaster of an afternoon, and even though they were on a pretty big in-love-with-each-other high at the moment, the core of it as hollow and he still felt wrung out from crying earlier.  He took a breath to try and steady his nerves.  “I think you can do it.  You can do anything.”

She glanced up, and that little flush definitely deepened.  “I can if I’ve got you.”

 

 

On the morning before Prom, Pidge walked up to the Supercuts on North Avenue, handed the stylist a picture of Natalie Portman that she’d cut out of a magazine, and said “Give me that.”

Half an hour later, she had considerably less hair, and she enjoyed the warm breeze through it as she walked down to the florist to pick up Hunk’s boutonniere, then made her way home.  It was still hours and hours before he was coming to pick her up for dinner, but she wanted to get dressed _now,_ she didn’t want to spend the afternoon doing homework or practicing bassoon -- though she really ought to, since she finally had the splints off and some finger strength back, and concert season was about to kick off.  But she’d played dozens of concerts in her life, and she’d never gone to a dance, so obviously that was where her priorities were today.

But she did her little bit of homework anyway, and then got her bassoon out and noodled through a couple of etudes and the interesting bits of the concert pieces, just to be sure she knew them and her fingers could still hack it.  It wasn’t as easy as it had been before her injury -- there were a couple passages where she still stumbled -- but it was fine, she was doing the best she could and it wasn’t like she intended to do this professionally or anything.  She wasn’t even sure if she was going to play at all in college.

The afternoon was finally almost past, which meant it wasn’t too soon for Pidge to shower.  She washed out the gunk that the stylist had put in her hair, and then got dressed and let her mom fuss with her hair a little. She consented to just enough pomade to get the slightly longer part on top to be swoopy and cool.

Pidge dabbed on a little bit of makeup like she did for concerts -- just mascara and one shade of eyeshadow, with some powder to make her face less shiny -- and then let her mom paint her lips like she never could when she was going to be playing the bassoon.

She looked in the mirror when it was done, and did a double-take because she almost didn’t recognize herself.  “Woah.”

“Red lipstick is magic, isn’t it?”

“I look _glamorous._ ”

Mom laughed.  “I’m just glad you got my coloring so this shade looks as good on you as it does on me.  Do you want to take it with you so you can reapply it after dinner?”

“Yeah, I’d hate to lose this look before we actually got to the dance.”

“Great.”  Mom snapped it into a little brocade case and handed it to Pidge.  “This even has a little mirror in it for you.”

“Cool.”

Pidge packed up the little black beaded purse she had borrowed from her mom, then buckled her shoes and sat down at the kitchen table to wait for her date.

Luckily she didn’t have to wait long; she wouldn’t have been able to stand it.  Even though the front door was open, she didn’t hear Hunk pull up, but Dad was working in the front yard and called for Pidge when he arrived.

She jumped up, and burst out the front door just as Hunk was stepping out of the car; his face lit up when he saw her.  “Hey!  Wow, you look amazing.”

“Thanks!”  She slowed down and let the fabric of her dress float around her, like it did; that was why she’d picked it, it made her feel ethereal, and going by the look on Hunk’s face he was having a similar reaction.

He stared for a long moment, and then blinked hard.  “I got you a corsage.”  He turned around and rummaged in the car briefly, and turned back around with a plastic clamshell with a flower arrangement inside.  “It’s the kind you wear on your wrist.”

“Neat.”  She held out her right hand, and Hunk took the flowers out of their box and slipped the elastic around her wrist.  She didn’t know anything about flowers, but the arrangement was white blossoms with a lot of greenery; it looked fresh and alive, and the green was just a couple of shades darker than her dress.  “It’s beautiful.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s really pretty.  I’ve got one for you too, it’s inside.”

He followed her into the kitchen, where she got the boutonniere out of the fridge.  She had been right in guessing he would wear his gold shirt -- though she hadn’t expected the snazzy black waistcoat and bow tie -- and the yellow rosebud she got him coordinated perfectly.  It took her several tries to get it pinned to the lapel of his jacket, but once she did she was certain in was secure.

“Pidgey!” Mom called.  “Come back outside, we need to take pictures!”

Hunk started to turn, but Pidge caught him, pulled him towards her gently.  He gave her a quizzical look for a moment before he understood: he smiled gently, leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek.  “I don’t want to mess up your lipstick.”

“Okay.  But don’t think this means I’m not going to get some proper kisses tonight,” she murmured.  “I’ll allow cheek kisses right now because my mom just did my makeup for me.”

He chuckled.  “Sounds good.  Let’s go let them take some pictures, I want to be sure I remember how you look tonight.”

It wasn’t just Pidge’s dress that was lighter than air as she and Hunk went back out to the front yard, hand in hand.

 

 

They met Keith, Lance, and Allura at P.F. Chang’s at the mall for dinner.  Hunk made everybody order different things so he could taste them all, and he vowed to recreate most of them at home.  Pidge put her fancy new digital camera to good use, and took a bunch of pictures not only of their group, but also of the food, and just of Hunk.  He was so relaxed and happy tonight -- she wanted to be sure she remembered him just like this.

After dinner Allura helped Pidge refresh her lipstick, and they headed over to the high school for the main event.  There was about twenty minutes of tedious formality, but then the actual dance started.  The music wasn’t fantastic, as they’d expected, but there were other things to do -- among them, getting another formal picture taken.  Pidge tried to refuse the photographer’s posing, since it was absolutely going to look weird, but Hunk sweet-talked her into going with it.  Their trio of friends were next, and got a silly photo since they weren’t a couple.

After the photos were done Allura dragged them all into the cafeteria to dance, and to Pidge’s surprise she actually rather enjoyed it.  This wasn’t quite her kind of music, but it was easy to move to, and with her friends all around it was definitely not a bad experience.  She particularly enjoyed setting her self-consciousness aside for Beyonce and grinding on Hunk during _Crazy In Love_ \-- and it was clear that he enjoyed it too.  Pidge got quite a bit of kissing after that, and had to wipe lipstick off Hunk’s face when they were done.

After a while they and their friends found themselves lounging halfway up the library stairs, watching everything going on below and talking about the year to come. Allura, the only Junior in their group, was jealous that all of them got to move on, though she was excited about being the senior drum major next year and filling Keith’s shoes. “Not literally, obviously,” she said quickly. “My little white boots are way cuter than your Dinkles.”

Keith laughed, and Pidge wondered — not for the first time — if there was something between them.

Lance sighed, leaning forward with his elbow on his knee.  “I can’t believe you’re going away, Keith.  At least Hunk is still going to be around so I won’t be totally alone.”

Pidge suddenly couldn’t breathe; Hunk shot her a look that was overflowing with sadness.  “I’m not going to be a whole lot of fun,” Hunk said.  “High school was easy but I’m going to be working really hard in college.”

“High school was _easy_?” Lance gasped.  “Wait, no, never mind.  I always forget that you and Pidge are, like, gifted kids or whatever.”

“Changing the subject,” Keith said.  “Pidge, are you living in the dorms up at Michigan Tech?”

It took her a moment, but she nodded and found her voice.  “Yeah.  You doing the same at Madison?”

“Yeah, figured I’d do it for the first year anyway.  Meet some people for a change.”

“Aren’t you going to try out for the band?” Allura asked.

Keith made an uncertain face.  “I dunno.  Like, they’re super intense and it looks awesome, but I don’t know if I could handle trying out and not making it.”

“Like _you_ wouldn’t make it,” Lance scoffed.

“I might not.”  Keith folded his arms, putting up a shield.  “What about you, Pidge?  Gonna do music in college?”

“They don’t have a marching band,” she said, and Keith shrugged.

“I know, but you’re good at the concert thing too.”

“I mean, maybe.  I don’t know how busy I’ll be.  I signed up for this thing they call first year experience, I guess it’s like a social club for freshman and we all live in the same area of the gigantic dorm.”

“Did you get your housing assignment already?  It seems early, I don’t even know what building I’m in.”

“Well.”  Pidge leaned into Hunk a little bit and tried not to wish he was going too.  “Everyone who signs up for this knows they’re going to live roughly in the same area.  Oh, but they did send me something that makes it seem like they’ve got me placed somewhere already.”

“Really?” Hunk said, sitting up a little and looking at her.  “I thought they didn’t send you your roommate assignment until like June.”

“Not officially.”  Everyone was watching her expectantly.  “So, like I don’t have my roommate’s name yet?  But I didn’t list a gender preference on my form, so they sent me a thing asking if I’d be okay rooming with a transgender girl, and I said sure, and they said okay this means we get a room with a private bathroom, so that’s neat.”

Everyone’s eyes were wide, and Lance opened his mouth first.  “You’re a freshman and you get a private bathroom?  That’s amazing!”

Pidge grinned.  “Yeah.  No running down the hall in just a towel.”

Keith laughed.  “Well, you still can if you want to.”

Allura raised one eyebrow at him.  “Sounds like you’ve got an ambition.”

“I feel like streaking might not be as much of a thing up in the UP as it is in Madison,” Hunk said drily.

Pidge laughed.  “I don’t think anywhere with an active broomball league does much streaking.”

“Broomball?” Lance said.  “What the hell is broomball?”

Hunk shrugged.  “Basically street hockey, on ice.”

“So, hockey?”

“No, it uses a ball and the players wear shoes.  But you play it on a hockey rink, and your hockey stick is like a mini push broom.”

“That’s real messed up.”

“That’s why there’s not much streaking, I don’t think,” Pidge said.  “Winter up there is even rougher than here.”

“But if the winter’s so bad, why are winter sports so big?” Allura said.  “I’d think people would be more likely to stay in and, like, have a lot of sex.”

Hunk barked a laugh, and Pidge felt a blush bloom over her entire head and neck.   _She had actually considered that, when she thought Hunk would be going too._

“Well, it’s an engineering school,” Hunk said.  “So not only are these weirdos, but they’re weirdos with a two-to-one guy-to-girl ratio.  And I doubt enough of them are gay to make the sex theory work.”

“This is all making me glad I’m going to a regular university,” Lance sighed.  “Should be a reasonable number of single girls at UWM, right Hunk?”

Hunk lost his mirth in an instant.  “What?”

“You and me, we can double date.”

Pidge’s heart stopped, and beside her, Hunk had gone so tense he was almost trembling  “Me and Pidge are staying together.”

Horrible realization poured over Lance’s features.  “Oh -- oh my god, you guys, I’m so sorry, I thought--”

“It’s fine,” Hunk snapped.  “I know what you _thought_.”

Pidge grabbed his hand, and he curled his fingers into hers so strongly it almost hurt.  Luckily this was her hand that hadn’t been injured, and she held onto him as tightly as she could.  “It’s okay.”

Hunk closed his eyes, and took a deep breath in through his nose.  Keith and Lance were conspicuously still, watching him, and Allura’s eyes were darting around as she tried to get a read on the situation.  “Yeah, it’s okay,” Hunk said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

“Why don’t we go back down and dance a little,” Allura said, standing up and fluffing her skirt, which rustled and sparkled as it moved.  “They’ll be kicking us out before too long.”

Pidge stood up and tugged on Hunk’s hand, and he reluctantly followed her down the stairs and into the cafeteria, just in time for the DJ to put on _Hey Ya_.  That got the attention of everyone in attendance, and in moments the floor was absolutely packed.  Hunk danced with Pidge in a sort of perfunctory way at first, but by the time the whole room was shouting _ICE COLD!_ he had warmed up considerably, and after Pidge “shook it” as best she could -- which was better than usual, since her dress fluttered dramatically -- he slid his arms around her waist and held her tightly.  She snaked her arms around his neck and they swayed together as the song ended and the next began.

 _Hips Don’t Lie_ was an even better song for dancing than the one previous.  Pidge relished the touch of Hunk’s hands on her body, the heat of his presence as they moved together, in the sultry darkness that pressed close while he music pounded through their bones.  She got as close to him as she could, rubbing on him in a way that was absolutely indecent, but she didn’t care, and before long the look of quiet ecstasy on his face was too sexy for her to bear and she tucked her face against his neck.

He kissed her cheek, her temple, her neck, her shoulder; she trembled and it pooled between her legs, hot and demanding.  She pressed into him even more firmly, and he pressed back and his arousal was unmistakable, intoxicating.

She stretched up until her lips brushed his earlobe.  “I want to fuck you.”

“Oh fuck.”  He pressed his hand flat on the small of her back, and his erection throbbed against her belly.  “This is such an inconvenient place to be insanely horny.”

She giggled, and it was thrilling and stupid and they were in the _cafeteria,_ with all of their classmates dancing to something she didn’t recognize and here she was, about to knock him down and have her way with him and it was just _silly_ , for all this to be happening at school.

Pidge looked up at Hunk, and he looked thoroughly bemused, and that was all it took to set her off laughing hysterically.  They stopped pretending to dance, and Hunk led her over to the door that opened into the courtyard, where it was much cooler.  Pidge caught her breath before too long, but not before attracting the attention of the other dozen people who were out there.

“Sorry,” she said, still grinning.

“For what?”

She shrugged.  “Dunno.  Being weird.”

“I like you weird.  Never stop.”

That thrill in her chest was back, but instead of making her giddy now it filled her with warmth.  “Did I solve your problem, anyway?”

He chuckled and looked down at his pants.  “Yeah, mostly.”

“Only mostly?”

He leaned close so that his words were barely more than a breath in her ear.  “I’m still going to fuck you later.”

“Good.”

“There you are!”  Allura came upon them suddenly, and in the dim light she looked distinctly otherworldly.  “Post prom, you guys coming?”

“Yeah,” Pidge said.  “I don’t have a curfew tonight, so I’m up for anything.  Are you going now?”

“Yeah, Lance wants to go so we can get some food before they run out.”

Pidge’s stomach growled suddenly.  “Oh man, good idea.”

“I could definitely eat,” Hunk said.

“Great.”  Allura grabbed Pidge’s hand.  “Come on, I want to fix your makeup before we go.”

Pidge glanced back at Hunk as she let herself be dragged away, and he gave her a little smile and a wave.

 

 

Post prom turned out to be way more fun than Pidge had expected, even if the food was disappointing enough that Hunk actually complained about it.  But the hours passed easily, until it was three AM and all of them were ravenous.  Their other classmates who were still partying were mostly arranging to go to the Denny’s just across Highway 100, but Keith wasn’t interested in being in a crowd any more and suggested the George Webb’s in the Village instead.

It was weird driving across town in the middle of the night, all empty streets and stoplights and Hunk blaring Green Day as loud as his car’s poor old speakers cold manage.  Bits of it were pretty severely distorted, but they didn’t care as they sang along at the top of their lungs.  And when Lance’s car pulled up alongside, the music was loud enough that he and Keith and Allura all joined in too, until Lance gunned it and passed them, roaring down North Avenue much faster than was strictly legal.

There were a few other teenagers in formalwear at Webb’s, but not so many that it was crowded, and their waitress seemed happy to have a few more customers.  They got their burgers and fries and coffee and happily stuffed their faces while soft Dad Rock played in the background.

The night dragged on so late that it transformed into very early morning, and the sky was beginning to go milky in the east when they finally left the diner.  Despite the coffee, Keith was fading fast and Allura kept staring off into space, so they all said goodnight and Lance packed them into his car and set off to take them home.

Pidge was definitely feeling the hour, an achy heaviness in her bones and that exuberant lightness in her head and chest that made her feel like everything was a good idea.  Hunk looked relaxed, almost sleepy, but his eyes were still alert and he smiled easily at everything Pidge said.  When they got in his car, he patted his hands on the steering wheel.  “All right.  Where to?”

Pidge twisted sideways in the seat and rested her head against it.  “Somewhere we can have sex.”

He licked his lips, and took a couple of shallow breaths that set Pidge’s blood pounding.  “Well, my house is out, Mom is home and she would definitely hear.”

“Mine’s out too, Bailey would make noise when we came in.”

“Right.  Well, that leaves … the car.  We’d have to find someplace empty that wouldn’t attract attention.”

“My block,” Pidge said suddenly.  “The street light at the end of the cul-de-sac has been out for a while, and there’s always cars parked on the street overnight.  We won’t stand out, and nobody will come driving by.”

“What if somebody’s up early and sees us?”

She set her hand on his thigh, and slid it from his knee up towards his crotch.  His legs spread almost unconsciously, pressing into her touch.  “I’m willing to take that risk,” she whispered.

“Okay.”  It was just a breath, and he laid his hand on hers before she could set it on his cock, which she could see was hard even in the dim light of the car.

It was a short drive to Pidge’s neighborhood, and Hunk went past her house and parked right under the light that was out, behind a neighbor’s minivan, before he turned to her.  “How are we gonna do this?”

She gestured over her shoulder.  “Back seat.”

They hopped out and back in as quickly as they could, feeling exposed and giddy about what they were about to do.  And then he fell on her and kissed her and kissed her, and it was awkward and delightful and then she crawled on his lap.  He slid his hands up her legs, under the skirt of her dress, and tightened his grip on her hips as she adjusted herself, finding her balance even as she ducked under the low ceiling of the car.  “Like this?” א

“Yes.”  He nodded and tipped his face up, asking for a kiss; she leaned down to oblige and he kissed her hard, gasping and moaning in the back of his throat and so obviously excited that Pidge was _desperate_ to remove the clothes between them.

“God, I love you,” she breathed.

“I love you,” he gasped into her mouth.  “I love you too, so much, Pidge, oh my god….”

She pulled away with a great effort, swung one leg off him and shimmied out of her panties.  Luckily she had a moment of clarity and reached up to toss them onto the front seat, rather than dropping them on the floor where they’d get lost.  Hunk undid his belt and opened his pants, pulled them down to mid-thigh, and then quickly manipulated his cock to poke through the fly of his underwear.

Pidge raised her eyebrows at him, though she was sure he couldn’t see in the darkness.  “Really?”

“I’m not putting my bare ass on the car seat, that’s disgusting.”  He fished in his trouser pocket for his wallet and pulled out a condom, and it only took him a few moments to get it on before he was reaching for Pidge again.

She clambered back on top of him, and he pushed the hem of her dress all the way up to her waist, sliding his big, warm hands all over her skin.  She was so turned on she felt squishy, and that combined with how insanely late it was turned the whole thing into an incredibly surreal experience; her body had never felt quite so present, so powerfully sensual.  “Ready?” she whispered.

“Absolutely.”

 

* * *

 

 

[(tumblr)](https://ladymac111-draws.tumblr.com/post/168488415712/he-slid-his-hands-up-her-legs-under-the-skirt-of)


	6. The Scientist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Coldplay - The Scientist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RB-RcX5DS5A)

_Nobody said it was easy_  
_But no one ever said it would be so hard_  
_Oh let’s go back to the start_

_June_

 

It was the first graduation that Pidge and Hunk had been to where they didn’t have to play _Pomp and Circumstance_ with the orchestra three thousand times, but it was disappointingly not better for that.  All the speakers were dull, and it was hot and muggy in the gym and it smelled like three hundred teenagers, but then they got to do the tassel moving thing and it was finally over and they had their little green diploma cases.  Not the actual diplomas, those they had to pick up from the study hall afterwards -- which was stupid and annoying -- but the important thing was that high school was _over for good!_

They let their parents take a gajillion pictures, and finally they and the rest of the band seniors headed to Keith’s house for the party that everyone had been waiting for.  Hunk relaxed hard, determined to thoroughly enjoy his break for the next forty-eight hours or so.  On Monday he had his first early-morning shift at Sendik’s Market, where he’d finally been promoted to shift supervisor in the deli after two full years of working his way up the ladder.  They had him scheduled nearly full-time over the summer, and as much as he was delighted to be earning that much money, he wasn’t looking forward to actually being at work all the time.  The silver lining was that the store was very close to Pidge’s house, so at least he could stop by and see her after he got done.

When she wasn’t working herself, that is; she had landed her first ever paying job, and at Keith’s graduation party had to bear the fond teasing of her friends -- including Hunk -- who’d been working in the summers ever since they were legally allowed to, and some of them during the year as well.  Through a nice little bit of nepotism involving her mother’s coworker, she’d secured a position as a banquet server at one of the big hotels just across the county line in Waukesha.  She was scheduled to start the weekend after graduation, and had been promised that she’d be working at pretty much every wedding the hotel hosted through the middle of August, when she left for college.  Her plan was to earn enough to buy the really good parts she needed to finish building her computer, and hang onto the rest for books and spending money.  It was difficult to begin picturing life at Michigan Tech without Hunk at her side, but she figured she really ought to start, and saving money for that specifically was her first reluctant step.

When the party started winding down, they said their goodbyes -- trying very hard not to feel like they were _goodbye_ goodbyes, since that was way too much -- and headed to Hunk’s house to hang out for a bit before Pidge’s parents were going to meet them and all go out to dinner together.

But when they got to Hunk’s house, there was a strange car in the driveway: a shiny gold Honda, looked like a recent model year, dealer plates, just sitting there like it owned the place and blocking Hunk’s access to the garage.  He parked on the street, and they went hesitantly inside, not sure who the guest would be.

Hana was sitting at the kitchen table with a bunch of paperwork out, and leaned over to shout a greeting to them as they came in.  “Hey kids!”

“Hi, Mom,” Hunk said.  “Who’s here?”

“Just me.”

He glanced at Pidge, who was having trouble trying to put the pieces together. It was obvious that _something_ was going on, but she couldn’t put her finger on _what_.

“Okay, so whose car is in the driveway?”

She lifted her eyes to his with a grin.  “Mine.”

It clicked for Pidge in an instant, and she looked to Hunk with excitement, but the penny hadn’t quite dropped for him yet.  “Wait, but you have a car.  The Camry.”

Hana got up from the table and joined them in the living room.  “Not any more.  The Camry’s yours now.”

Hunk took half a step backwards and blinked at her.  “Wait, what?  It’s _mine_?”

She opened her arms to him, inviting a hug.  “Congratulations on graduating from high school, honey.”

He took a moment to get over his shock, and then laughed and scooped his mother up in his arms, nearly swinging her around the room.  “Oh my god!  Oh my god, Mom, thank you _so much_.”

“I love you, Tsuyoshi.”

“God, I love you too Mom.”  He squeezed her so tightly for a moment that she made a little squeak, but then he released her.  “This is going to make going to work this summer _so easy_.”

She beamed at him.  “That’s the idea.  And in the fall, when you’re going downtown for school you can go on your own schedule.  You know, even though you’re still living here with me, I do want you to feel a bit like a grown-up.  Come and go as you please.”

Pidge was trying very, very hard not to feel like her heart was breaking as Hunk and Hana kept going about the car -- both from the utter sweetness of it, and from the smack in the face that Hunk was really making college plans that didn’t involve her.  She tried to smile when he looked at her; it felt like a grimace, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Ten weeks to go.

 

 

_July_

 

Hunk’s alarm clock beeped its horribly obnoxious beep, and beside him, Pidge threw her arm over her face with a deep groan.

He reached over his head to smack the button and turn it off, then snuggled close to her, nuzzling a kiss into her hairline; it was damp with sweat, since she always overheated at night in the summer.  “Rise ‘n shine.”

“Fuck.”

“No time for that, it’s parade day.”

“Ugh.  Christ.”  She rolled onto her belly, and with another groan pushed herself up on her elbows; her face was puffy with sleep and she looked dazed, her pixie cut flat on one side and sticking out every which way on the other.

“You gotta move so I can get up,” he said, and she gave him a look.

“Don’t rush me.  You know how this goes.”

He knew very well how this went; he’d lost count of the number of times she’d woken up in his bed, and recently had been trying not to calculate how many more there would be.  He _could_ sit up and scoot around her, but he didn’t want to.  Wouldn’t stop him from giving her a hard time, though.

“Come on, I don’t want to be late to my last ever Fourth of July parade.  We’re going to win best band this year.”

She sat up and rubbed her face.  “Yeah, you only think that now because you haven’t met the new freshman percussionists.”

“Are they bad?”

She laughed, deep in her chest, and then coughed.  “Oh, man.  The worst.”

“You used to be pretty bad.”

“My technique was bad but I knew how to, like, read music.”

“Oh, for real?”

“Yeah.”

He sat up and scooted over to the edge of the bed.  “Race you to the bathroom?”

“Nah, it’s yours.”  She grabbed the pillow and curled into it.  “The pillow loves me.  Don’t you, pillow?   _Oh yes Pidge, I’d never make you get up at the ass crack of dawn._ ”

Hunk laughed and stood up, stretching out his back and shoulders.  “I’ll only be a minute.  Then we gotta motor, we have to eat before we go.”

She sighed deeply, and kept her face buried in the pillow.  “Okay.”

 

 

Hunk’s preparedness got them to school just as Mr. Smythe was arriving to unlock it, and they were able to take their time gathering their uniforms and equipment and greeting all their friends before they schlepped over to the parking lot at the mall, where the parade was being staged.  It was cool enough that they were in full uniforms, jackets and chickens and everything, and since they were at the front of the parade this year everyone got in line quickly.  The fire truck ahead of them started up, Keith called the band to attention, and they were off.

The weather warmed up a bit on their two-mile march down North Avenue, and by the time they reached the judges -- stationed at Hunk’s Sendik’s, as usual -- Hunk had worked up a bit of a sweat, thanks to his wool uniform and the fact that he was carrying a brass sousaphone this year, since there were so many underclassmen that they used up all the fiberglass ones.  He didn’t mind, much; the brass one had a better sound, and since this was the last time he would ever get to do this, he was happy to go all-in.

The band played pretty well, he thought.  The percussion section was a little sloppy at times, as Pidge had warned him, and even though he knew she’d be upset with it he couldn’t find it in himself to really care.  It was fun, and he played loud, and then they went the rest of the way down to 76th Street and did the swirly and tears welled in his eyes as he shouted the _eyes with pride_ for the last time.

He found Pidge and Lance while they were loading everything into the bus, and sat with them for the ride back to the high school to put everything away.  Lance was having a pretty hard time, crying a little bit as he reminisced about their last four years of marching band.  Hunk noticed as he comforted him that he was really sweaty -- like more sweaty even than Pidge, who was notoriously bad -- so he grabbed a full spray bottle from Pidge’s mom’s stash and got him full in the face.  Lance’s overwrought indignance was tempered by an obvious vein of relief, and after he wrestled the bottle away from Hunk he unscrewed the top and chugged the contents.  Pidge had a good laugh at the whole thing, and snatched another bottle to periodically spray both of them.

Back at the school, the auditorium and orchestra room quickly filled with band members, all trying to undress without embarrassing themselves and put their uniforms into the correct bags before turning them in to Pidge’s mom’s team for their annual cleaning.  Pidge surrendered her shoes to be resold to a freshman, but Hunk wanted to keep his -- they were pretty good for wearing at work, it turned out, and they were worn enough into the weird shape of his feet that he didn’t want to inflict that on any big-footed freshman.  They’d have to cough up the dough for a new pair like he had.

And then, just like that: they weren’t in band any more.

It was entirely too much to wrap one’s head around.  Pidge found Lance, and they all went outside, leaving their high school for the last time.  They all got into Hunk’s car -- he was finally getting used to calling it _his_ car, which was neat, it felt adult-y -- and drove to the other side of town, where the annual 4th of July festivities in the Village were already in full swing.  Parking was atrocious, of course, but they got themselves into the crowd, and Lance seemed much more himself once he’d eaten two hot dogs and slurped down a can of Coke.

Pidge was taking her time with her nachos, and allowing Hunk to snatch a chip now and then as they strolled with Lance through the crowds.

“So,” Lance said, in the tone of voice he used when he was going to be a smartass about something.  “Hunk, I couldn’t help noticing you changed into a yellow shirt when you got out of your uniform? That’s not patriotic.”

Hunk looked down at his shirt, then back at Lance with a bemused smile.  “Okay, first, I’m colorblind so I don’t really know what color this is.  And second, I’m not even a U.S. citizen, so why should I be patriotic at all?”

Lance stopped walking and blinked at him, his mouth hanging open in shock.  “Since when are you not a citizen?”

“Since forever?  I was born in American Samoa and neither of my parents were citizens.”

“Isn’t your mom a citizen?”  Pidge asked.  “I thought she was, she was really into the election in ‘04.”

Hunk nodded, and stole another chip from her.  “Yeah, but she got naturalized after we moved here, right after the 2000 election actually.  She wanted to be able to vote against George Bush in the next one, but I didn’t want to go through the whole citizenship thing at the time.”

Lance was clearly having a hard time with this.  “But Puerto Ricans are citizens.”

“Samoa isn’t Puerto Rico.”

“It’s all very fucked up,” Pidge chimed in.

“No kidding,” Hunk said, and he was starting to get worked up about it, like he always did.  “They’ll let me work here as much as I want and pay taxes and everything, but I don’t get to vote unless I jump through all sorts of hoops like my home hasn’t been victim to American colonialism for fifty years.  It’s bullshit.”

Lance was clearly regretting his decision to needle Hunk about this, and he turned to Pidge.  “You’re not patriotic either.  It’s not even your band shirt.”

She shrugged; she was wearing the Harry Potter tank top she’d slept in.  “I’m a communist.”

“Of course.”

“Lance!”

They all turned to see Allura jogging towards them.  “There you are,” she said, breathless.  “Your sister was looking for you, don’t you have your cell phone?  She said she was trying to call you.”

Lance patted his pocket, and his face fell.  “Oh, shit, no I don’t.”

Allura grabbed his elbow.  “Come on.”

Pidge raised her eyebrows at Hunk as their friends left them.  “What do you think that was about?”

“Well, Lily has diabetes, so I’m guessing she needs some food,” Hunk said.  Lance had complained at him recently about how not leaving home for college apparently meant that he was still expected to watch out for her, even though she was a junior in high school now.  “He can’t quite shake being responsible for her.”

“I bet he doesn’t really want to,” Pidge said.

Hunk laughed.  “Yeah, that’s possible.”

Pidge nodded, and finished the last of the chips in her plastic tray.  There was a big trash can a few yards away, so she ran and dropped it in quickly before she returned to Hunk.  “All right.  What now?”

Shit, it was time.  Thinking about Lance had reminded Hunk that he was starting college at UWM in a month and a half, and that Pidge was going away to Michigan Tech right before that.  And he’d had something on his mind, and he’d been waiting for the opportunity to bring it up with her, and … well, now was as good a time as any.  He took a deep breath.  “I, um.  I sort of wanted to talk to you quick.”

She looked startled at his seriousness.  “Oh.  Okay.”

He swallowed hard and wiped his hands on his thighs.  “So … so I was thinking, and I think maybe when we’re at college -- while you’re away -- maybe we should be … non-exclusive.”

Confusion flashed across her face.  “We should _what_?”

“Non-exclusive.”  He was trying not to shake, and suddenly felt like this was a big mistake, even though he’d felt pretty certain last week when she’d been talking so excitedly about Michigan Tech.  “You know, I … I want you to be able to date other people when I’m not around.”

The confusion turned to horror, and his blood turned to ice.  “You _what?_ ”

“I think it … I think it would be good for us.”

She blinked at him a few times before she found her voice.  “So, being physically apart isn’t enough for you? You want to half break up too?”

 _No, no no no, she had it wrong!_ “It’s not breaking up, it’s just … taking away part of the difficulty of being long-distance.  At least, I think it’ll work that way.”

"How long have you been thinking this?"

"Well ... a while. Like a month."

"You were thinking this while you were _sleeping next to me last night?!_ ”  Her voice went shrill at the end and he started to panic.

"Pidge, it's not like that--"

"What the fuck is it like? You don't want to actually stay with me while we're long distance? You want to date other people while I'm in Michigan?"

"God, Pidge, no! I _adore_ you, I never want to be with anyone but you. But we haven't been together that long, and I don't want to be the guy who holds you back."

"You could never hold me back." She was crying suddenly, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, which were flushed with anger. "I'm going away, but I'm not _leaving_. It's only three hundred miles."

"It's another _world_. I just … I just want you to have options. We need to be open to change."  He was beginning to choke on tears now too, sympathy crying on top of his own emotion.  This was _not_ going right, he had to get control of the conversation.

“I don’t need that kind of options, Hunk.  I’m not going to college to _date_.”

“But you should be able to if you want to.  You should be able to have a boyfriend who can actually, like, take you on dates and kiss you.”  It hurt so much to say it, he felt like he might throw up.

“Don’t talk like this!”  She wrapped her arms around her chest.  “I don’t _want_ that, don’t you understand?  I want us to stay together!”

“We will stay together!  But I don’t want us to do it just because we feel like we _should_.  I don’t want us to be stuck in a Wauwatosa mindset after we’ve left high school behind.  I want us to be able to grow.”

She cried even harder, shaking her head as the tears fell down her cheeks.  “Not like this.”

He reached for her shoulder.  “Pidge, please--”

“No!”  She jerked away, almost stumbling backwards.  “God, why can’t -- why can’t we _do things_ anymore without you pulling shit like this?”

It was as though she had slapped him.  “What?”

She was crying so hard she could barely speak.  “I didn’t want anything to _change!_  We had our plans but then you _changed_ it, you changed _everything_ and now we’re not even sort of together.”

“Pidge, that’s not--”

“ _No!_ ”  She nearly screamed it, and he flinched back from her.  “Just … no, okay?  I don’t want to hear it, not from you.”

“You don’t know what I--”

“ _Shut up,_ ” she spat, angrily wiping the wetness off her face.  “Just -- just _shut up_ , Tsuyoshi.”  She heaved a shuddering breath, and then turned and walked hurriedly away.

It took him a good few moments to get over the shock.  “Pidge!”  She didn’t react, and he started to follow her.  “Katie?”

“Leave me alone!” she shouted, not even turning.

Hunk stopped in his tracks, and Pidge disappeared into the crowd.

 

 

She wasn’t going to run -- she wasn’t going to run, and she wasn’t going to fucking _cry_ , not in the middle of the crowd.  Not at Hart Park on the 4th of July.  She was going to go … somewhere.  Fuck.  Hunk was supposed to be her ride today, and she didn’t want to walk all the way home.  She could, but … it was a long walk.

Shit, _fuck_ , she was crying; her vision was going all blurry and her breath was hitching and this was awful, why was this happening here, today?  Why couldn’t she have even a little control over herself?  It wasn’t like this was a _tremendous_ surprise anyway, it’s just that Hunk’s previous bombshell had been long enough ago that she’d forgotten to a degree.  But didn’t this just fit the pattern perfectly?  He kept making choices that cut her out, pushed her away.

Pidge was choking on sobs when she finally found an empty bench and collapsed on it, hands pressed to her face.  Didn’t he want her?  Didn’t he _love_ her?  He had loved her so tenderly last night, had that been a lie, an act?  Was he capable of that?  He’d never deceived her a day in his life.  That she knew of….

“Pidge!”

She flinched, but it wasn’t Hunk’s voice; she picked her head up and saw Keith running towards her.  “Holy shit,” he gasped, stopping short, his sneakers crunching in the gravel.  “Are you okay?  What happened?”

She shook her head and struggled to force the words out of her throat.  “It’s nothing.”

“Bull fucking _shit_.”  He was still standing over her, and made no move to sit.  She wondered for half a moment if this was a power move, if this was something they taught drum majors at Bands of America.  “You crying is _so_ not nothing.”

She shook her head again, and buried her face in her hands.  She tried to bring herself to say it, to say anything at all about Hunk, but she just couldn’t.  After a long minute of choking on her breath and trying to swallow, she finally picked her face up a little.  “I want to go home.”

“You want to … who’s your ride?  I’ll find them for you.”

“No!”  It came out so much more forcefully than she’d meant, and Keith actually flinched backwards before realization dawned on his face.

“Oh -- _oh_.  You were here with Hunk.”

Pidge could feel herself crumbling.  “I just need to go.”

“Yeah.  Yeah, okay.”  He thought for a moment, then stepped back.  “Okay, come on.  I’ll give you a lift.”

She sniffed, and pushed herself to her feet with a tremendous effort; it was like swimming in molasses.  “You’ll lose your parking spot.”

“I got a shitty parking spot anyway.  Come on.”

 

 

Hunk wasn’t aware of where his feet were taking him until he wound up at the football field.  The bleachers were open to the public, and there were quite a few groups of people hanging out; he found a seat far enough from anyone else that he felt alone, and he gave in to the urge collapse in on himself.

But he hurt to much to even cry.  He wrapped his arms around his body as tight as he could, squeezed his chin down into his chest and tried to find some tears, but his own self-loathing was too great.   _He did this.  He did this to_ _Pidge_ _, and she was beyond upset, and it was his fault, and how could he have done this when he loved her so much?_

“Hunk?”

His head snapped up -- Lance was right in front of him, down on the track, hanging off the railing.  He stared for a long moment before he realized he should say something.  “Hey.”

It was a croak of a syllable.  Lance’s eyebrows raised so high they practically went underneath his fringe, and he twisted to climb up into the bleachers and plop next to Hunk.  “What the hell happened?”

“Pidge.”  Hunk’s breath got stuck in his chest.  “I fucked up,” he whispered. “I fucked up real bad.”

Lance shook his head. “What did you do?”

“I told — I told Pidge --”  He swallowed hard; this was something he needed to tell Lance.  “I told her I thought maybe we should be non-exclusive when she’s away at college.”

Lance’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Oh. And ... why? I mean — _why_?”

Hunk squeezed his eyes shut and tried to curl away into nothing. “I want her to have the option. I don’t want to hold her back.”

“And she thinks _you_ want to have the option.”  Lance gasped, horrified. “Oh _shit_ , is this my fault? Because of what I said at prom?”

“I don’t know,” Hunk moaned.  “I don’t know why this happened, she … she wouldn’t let me explain, she just freaked out.”

Lance rubbed his shoulder gently.  “That really fucking sucks, buddy.”

“I can’t even tell you how bad it sucks.”

“I know, man.”  He kept rubbing; the touch was actually a little bit comforting.  He didn’t deserve to be comforted.

“Do you think she’ll ever talk to me again?”

Lance breathed a tiny laugh.  “I think she will.  You guys have way too much history for your friendship to end like this.  She just needs some time.”

Hunk turned his head to glance at his friend.  “I can’t lose her.”

“You won’t.”

“I _can’t_.”

“I know.”  Lance sighed.  “You know, I think … it’s been kind of a tough time all around, you know?  A whole bunch of _lasts_.  We graduated, and we had our last parade just today, and we all loved band but we have to say goodbye and turn in our uniforms.  So now when you’re trying to think of your future with her, maybe you said something in an awkward way and she took it as the beginning of another end.”

Hunk’s chest tightened.  “I don’t want it to be that way.  Not at all.”

“I know.  But I think if you give her a day or two, you’ll be able to talk it out.”

Hunk leaned into Lance, and Lance wrapped his arm around Hunk’s back, a sort-of hug that was comforting in that way that Lance’s hugs always were.  Hunk was struck by a feeling of immense relief that no matter what happened with Pidge in the fall, even if his heart broke, at least he would still have Lance.  “Thanks, man.”

“Any time, buddy.”

 

 

Pidge let herself cry a little bit in Keith’s car while he took her home, and when they arrived he pulled a roll of paper towel out from under the passenger seat and gave her a sheet to dry her face and blow her nose.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.”  She nodded, crumpling up the now-wet paper.  “Thank you.”

“Of course.  And say, um.  I got my dot-EDU email address from Madison so I have a Facebook now, you should friend me.”

It was an abrupt change of pace, and Pidge was having a tough time adapting on the fly.  “Oh, yeah.  I mean, I don’t have mine from Tech yet, but I will when I do.”

“Okay, good.”  He put both hands on the steering wheel, fidgeting.  “Keep … um.  Let me know how this goes with Hunk, okay?”

She nodded, reaching for the door handle.  “Yeah.”

He reached out suddenly, set his fingers on her arm.  “I mean it, okay?”

She paused, watching him, wondering when she and Keith had become _this_ kind of friends -- but knowing deep in her heart that she was glad for it.  “I know.  I promise.”

He relaxed.  “Okay.  Take care.”

“Thanks.”  She got out of the car, and Keith drove off, but she stood in the driveway for a minute trying to decide if she was going to go in the front door and avoid seeing anyone, or go in the back and wave at her family on her way in -- she could hear them in the neighbors’ back yard.  Matt laughed, and one of the neighbor kids let out a shriek of delight, which set Bailey barking excitedly.

If she said hello, they’d ask her to join them, and she didn’t want to be with anyone right now, she needed to be alone.  So she snuck in the front door, closing it quietly behind her.  She was about to head for the stairs before she realized it was probably really hot in her bedroom, and her mom would probably give her shit if she suddenly appeared from up there later in the day.

The futon on the back screen porch would do; she could lie down and have the fresh air, but it would be quiet and alone enough that she could have the cry that had been trying to bubble up inside her for the last hour.

 

Pidge woke up to the sound of the screen door sliding open, and jerked the pillow away from her face to see Matt standing over her, looking concerned.  “Hey, kid.”

“Hey.”  Her voice was rough, and she tried to sit up; she didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep, she hadn’t meant to.

“Are you okay?”

The tears welled in her eyes immediately and all the air went out of her lungs.  “No.”

He pulled out the ottoman and sat on it, his elbows on his knees in a pose that looked just like their dad.  “I didn’t expect you home from Hart Park so early, what happened?”

Pidge shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut and letting the tears fall down her cheeks.  “It … Hunk.”

Matt was quiet for a beat.  “Did you guys have a fight?”

“No.  Or … maybe.  I don’t know what it was.”

“Pidgey,” Matt said gently, leaning forward.  “Tell me what happened.”

She drew a shuddering breath.  “So, he … out of the blue, he told me that he thinks--”  She stopped, too choked up to speak.  Matt watched her as she tried to swallow it down.  “He wants to be non-exclusive when I move away.  And I think — I think maybe he doesn’t love me anymore.”  She broke, and there were the tears again, streaming down her face.  “Not the way that I love him.”

Matt’s face had gone on an impressive journey during her short story, and finally arrived on sympathetic-but-understanding-big-brother.  “Well, that could be.  Or maybe he loves you so much he can’t stand it and he thinks this will make it easier for you. He’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met, and he wears it on his sleeve. You’d know if he loved you even the slightest bit less.”

“But what if I didn’t? If I _don’t_? What if I’m totally blinded by my own feelings? I didn’t see this coming _at all_ but he said he’s been thinking it for a long time.”

“He’s an overthinker,” Matt said, as though that explained everything.

“That doesn’t make this _better_.”

He shrugged.  “Maybe not.  But I can’t imagine that he didn’t tie himself in absolute fucking knots over this.  I’m certain he has a reason that’s rooted in trying to do what he thinks is good for you.  For both of you.  He’s always trying to fix the whole world.”

Pidge couldn’t stand it; she buried her face in her hands and curled up into the smallest ball she could.  “He got it _wrong._  I ca--”  She gasped.  “I can’t believe he thought I would _want_ this.”


	7. Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Heaven by DJ Sammy feat DO](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rogM1w6lfBM)
> 
> New feature! If you don't want to read the smut, click the aleph א when you get to it and AO3 will skip you to when it's (mostly) SFW again.

_Your love is all that I need  
And I found it there in your heart _

  
On July 8th -- well, technically it was the 9th, since it was one in the morning -- Pidge came home from a long shift at the Marriott to a dark house and half a piece of notebook paper on the kitchen table, scrawled with her father’s handwriting.  And before she even got close enough to read it, she knew: it was a message from Hunk.

She knew in that deep part of her heart that hadn’t stopped aching for him in the one hundred and nine hours since she had last seen him on the 4th.  And right now, it ached more than ever.  Working at weddings this summer appealed to her romantic side, and it had been fine, it had been _fun_ , until she’d had the huge fight with Hunk four days ago.

Today had been awful.

To start with, it had been a ten-hour shift.  Which she didn’t _really_ mind, she’d agreed to it since the time always went quickly and she sure liked the money.  But this had been a particularly beautiful wedding, absolutely lavish and romantic and probably the only Punjabi wedding she would ever see in person, and every glorious detail had made her long for Hunk with every atom of her being.  She was angry but she _loved him,_ she was angry _because_ she loved him and this radio silence wasn’t helping, she wasn’t getting less angry or hurt, she was only being stretched out until she couldn’t bear it.

She set her bag and her uniform jacket on the table and picked up the note.

 

_Katie--_

_Hunk called for you around 8, said he figured you were at work and wanted to leave a message.  He says he’s sorrier than he can possibly say (he made me write that down verbatim) and he’s begging you to call (he made me use the word begging).  He said the hour doesn’t matter, just please call him._

_For what it’s worth, I think you should talk to him.  I know you love him.  Don’t let this keep hurting you._

_Love Dad_

 

She glanced over at the cordless phone, sitting in its dock.  He said the hour didn’t matter, and he knew she got home late….

She took the phone and her things and went up to her room, and changed into her pajamas before she picked up the phone.  It was so easy to dial his number, her fingers knew the buttons perfectly, and she held the phone up to her ear as her heart thundered inside her, drowning out everything else, so anxious she could hardly bear it.

The phone rang three times before someone picked up, and there was a quiet shuffling noise, an inhalation, and then Hunk’s voice, hushed.  “Hello?”

“Hi.  It’s me.”

“Pidge.”  The syllable came out in a gust, more wind than word, and she could feel his relief.  It calmed her, just a little.

“You asked me to call.”

“I did.  Thank you, _thank you_ for calling me back.”

“My dad wrote a note for me.  I just got home and saw it on the table.”

Hunk made a little noise of agreement, and then he was quiet; Pidge could tell he was preparing his words.  She let the silence stretch: he was going to be the one to say something first.

“I’m so sorry.”  Hunk’s voice was soft and sibilant down the phone line; comfortable, dark, soothing.  Pidge’s heart melted despite her resolution to make him work for her forgiveness.  “I ballsed this up,” he continued.  “I hurt you and I never wanted to do that, _never_ , but I was stupid.  I’m so sorry.”

 _It’s okay_ , she wanted to say.   _I love you,_ she wanted to beg.  But she couldn’t forget the horrible hurt of the past four days.  She swallowed.  “Thank you.”  He was quiet, listening while she worked out what to say next.  “I … I accept your apology.”

He let out a gusty breath.  “Thank you.”

“This doesn’t mean we’re okay,” she said quickly.

“I know.”  She felt like she could see his damn sad puppy look through the phone.  “But does it mean that we can talk?  Like, in person, really talk.”

It was all she could do not to beg him to just come over right now.  “Yeah, we can.”

“I get off work at two-thirty tomorrow.  Or, today.  Should I stop by?”

Pidge did some math in her head.  “Wait, if you’re opening why are you still up right now?”

There was a loud noise of air, and Pidge wasn’t sure what exactly he had done on the other end of the phone.  “I mean, yeah, I should be asleep.  But I can’t, I haven’t been able to sleep since … since then.”

 _Oh god, he was hurting, he was hurting as much as she was._ “I’ll be awake by two-thirty.  You can come over.”

“Okay.  Good.  You don’t work tomorrow, do you?”

“No, since I was there late tonight I don’t have to go polish silverware in the morning.  And nobody gets married on Sunday nights apparently, there’s no banquet.”

“All right.  I’ll plan to see you when I get off work then.  Can … can I bring you a sandwich or something?”

He wanted to bring her a peace offering.  The sandwiches at Sendik’s were _really_ good, too.  “If you want to.”

“Okay.”  He yawned, and Pidge clamped down on the urge to mirror him.  “I ought to go to bed.  See you tomorrow.”

 _I love you_.  It was _so_ hard not to say it.  “Yeah, see you then.”

He paused longer than usual, and she wondered if he was wrestling with wanting to say the same thing that she did.  Instead, when he finally spoke:  “Okay, good night.  Bye.”

“Bye.”

She set the phone down and her heart collapsed inside her chest.  She fell into her pillow, tears already flowing.  “I love you,” she whispered into the fabric.  “I’m sorry and _I love you_.”

 

 

At two-thirty, Pidge was freshly showered and shopping for computer parts online -- she’d already earned quite a bit of money, and she was just about ready to finish building her rig.  She was engaged enough in her task that she didn’t hear Hunk’s car pull up, but she jumped up when Bailey started barking, and there was a tap on the front door.

She pushed the screen door open, and he stepped into the house slowly, saying hello to the dog, who was much more outwardly excited to see him than Pidge was.  He was in his work uniform -- she felt like she’d seen him in that more often than not this summer -- and he was carrying a red plastic bag.  “Here,” he said, handing it to her.  “Brought you lunch.”

“Thanks.”  She stepped back.  “Um.  Come on in.  I figured we’d sit on the back porch, it’s nice out there.”

“Sure.”  He stooped to pull off his shoes, and got a couple kisses from the dog before he stood back up.

“Can I get you some water or anything?”  Why was she doing this?  Like he was a guest here?   _Way to be awkward, Pidge._

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

She walked through the house to the back porch, Hunk right behind her, and sat down at the little table to open her sandwich.  Hunk pulled out the chair across from her.

“Where’s your family today?”

It was a turkey and swiss sandwich, with all her favorite toppings, including extra mayo even though Hunk always told her it was disgusting.  “Matt’s around,” she said, taking a huge bite; she hadn’t eaten yet and she was ravenous.  “Mom and Dad went shopping.”

He eyed her as she chewed, holding back a smile.  “Good sandwich?”

She nodded, stuffing more into her mouth.  “You hungry?”

He did smile then, hesitant and shy, but it was a smile nevertheless and she loved it.  “No, I already ate.”

Pidge tried to focus on her sandwich, rather than the baffling maelstrom of emotions that were swirling through her.  It would be so easy to just forget this whole fight had never happened, for this to be just another day that he brought her a sandwich after work.  But she refused to forget it, how much he’d hurt her, how agonizing these four days of silence had been, and how uncertain their future together had suddenly become.

She slowed down when she finished the first half of the sandwich, and that was when Hunk seemed to decide it was time to say his piece.  He took a deep breath, and folded his hands on the edge of the table.  “Thanks for returning my call last night.”

She glanced up at him, but couldn’t make herself hold eye contact. “Yeah.”

“I, um.  I felt kind of weird about asking you to be the one to call me, you know?  I felt like calling when I knew you wouldn’t be home was … I don’t know, cowardly or something.”

Pidge kept looking at her sandwich, and didn’t say anything.

Hunk sighed.  “But I realized I should be the first one to reach out, and I didn’t want to make you talk to me if you weren’t ready.”

Pidge nodded.  “It worked out okay.”

“Good.”  He breathed a little laugh.  “I was sort of surprised you called me back the same day.”

She glanced up at him.  “You expected me to wait?”

“I wasn’t sure.”  He twisted his fingers awkwardly.  “I was afraid you’d never want to talk to me again.”

“It was tempting.”  Was that a bitchy thing to say?  Maybe so, but it was true.

He grimaced.  “Yeah, uh.  That’s part of why I didn’t call when you were home, I didn’t want you to have to tell me that.”

Pidge nodded, studying her sandwich.  “Makes sense.”

He was quiet for a moment.  “So, I’m here to say I’m sorry I hurt you.”

She nodded again.  “Thanks.”

“I was hoping you’d let me explain myself.  What I was thinking.”

“You know what it made me think, right?”

“I do, and I … I brought it up in a bad way.  I talked to Lance right after and he basically told me I was an idiot for saying what I did.”

“He was right.”

“I know.”  He frowned down at his hands.  “I’ve thought a lot about it since then.  I realize why it seemed like breaking up, which is because it … it’s kind of opening the door for it, I guess.  Just like how this week I was afraid of you rejecting me, I’m afraid that when you’re away something will come up for one of us, and we’ll be torn between cheating or breaking up.  So I wanted to make that easier.  If we’re not exclusive it’s not cheating, and if we break up … there’s less to break, maybe.”

They were quiet for a while, and when Pidge finished chewing she found her voice.  “Do you think we’re going to break up after I move away?”

Hunk looked like he was trying not to cry.  “I don’t know.  Long-distance relationships are really hard, and we’ve never been apart for very long.  Especially not since we became a couple.”

“I don’t want to break up,” she said.  “I want to stay with you, and I’m willing to work for it.”

“You are now,” Hunk said carefully, “but what if things are different once you’re in college?”

“Being in Michigan isn’t going to change how I feel about you.  It won’t change everything we have already.”  She reached out across the table, and he slipped his fingers delicately between hers, which made her heart pound inside her chest and gave her the courage to say what had been dying to get out of her.  “I love you.  I _want_ to have a future with you, and I know this is going to be hard but I think we can do it.”

His hand was so warm on hers, so gentle and comforting.  “I’m just afraid because we really don’t know what’s going to happen.  Maybe you’ll meet somebody.  Maybe--”  He hesitated for a moment.  “Maybe _I_ will.  Who knows.”

“How about this,” Pidge said softly, running her thumb over his knuckles. “We promise to be honest. If I meet someone or you meet someone and we want to ... to see where it goes with them, we’ll say so.  We can become non-exclusive later if that’s something we both decide that we want.”

Hunk nodded, and swallowed hard. “I guess so.”

“You guess so?”

“I dunno, it just feels like — it would feel like you’re breaking up with me.”

“I think that means you don’t really want to have an open relationship.”

He huffed a little laugh and squeezed her fingers.  “Guess not.”

Pidge set down what was left of her sandwich, and let the emotion bubble up inside her.  “I’m ready to be done being upset with you.”

He stood up, still holding her hand, and she joined him just in time to be pulled into a fierce hug.  He surrounded her, holding her with all his strength, and she pressed her face into his chest and let a couple of tears fall.

They stood like that for a good couple of minutes before his arms around her back finally relaxed.  Pidge kept her fingers twisted in his shirt, and wrinkled her nose.  “You smell like ham.”

He laughed, a sudden expression of joy that opened her heart.  “Not the worst thing I could smell like.”

Pidge’s heart pounded as she let go of his shirt, set her hands on his cheeks, and drew him into a kiss.  He responded instantly, wrapping her in his arms again and opening his mouth to slide his tongue against hers, consuming her with the force of his passion.

She pushed on him gently, backed him up against the couch on the porch and he broke the kiss momentarily as he fell onto it kind of sideways, but gathered her back up as soon as she climbed onto his lap.  She straddled his legs, pressing as close as she could, kissing like her life depended on him while he touched her everywhere, all over her back, squeezing her butt, pulling her hips against him, even getting in a quick breast grope which kicked her libido into overdrive.א

She ground against him, moaning into his mouth, and he shivered.  “Fuck, Pidge….”

“I love you,” she whispered.  “I missed you so much.  I love you.”

“I love you too.”  He ran his hands down her back, and rolled his hips up against her.  “God, I love you.”

She knew that hitch in his breath; she reached down between them with one hand to touch his erection through his clothing.  It was caught against one of his thighs, but with a little shift of his weight she was able to rearrange it so it was pointing upwards under his pants, flush against the underside of his belly, right where she could grind against it.

He was getting sloppy when she kissed him again, clearly giving in to his body’s desires and not thinking.  She loved it when he was like this, though; she loved that she got to see him when he lost control, that he trusted her enough to let his guard completely down and simply take his pleasure.  He turned them a bit more sideways on the couch; it was uncomfortable on her leg, but she didn’t care.  She wrapped the other around his hip, and he was trying to thrust into her with his limited range of motion and then suddenly he _gasped_ , he stiffened, and his arms around her back became so tight it was almost painful.

The floor creaked, and Pidge almost jumped off Hunk’s lap, though he was holding her too closely for her to go anywhere.  She looked up, and there was Matt, poking his head through the doorway that led from the house to the porch.  Since they had turned sideways on the couch she was facing him directly, and he could only see Hunk’s back.  And Pidge’s leg wrapped around him….

“Oh,” she managed, breathless.  “Hey, Matt.”

“Hey,” he said, smirking like he did when he was about to be absolutely awful.  “I’m not interrupting you, am I?”

“Haven’t you left to go back to college yet?” Pidge said, trying to sound as indignant as possible with Hunk trembling between her thighs.

Matt laughed.  “I’m telling Mom and Dad that you guys made up.”

Hunk groaned and pressed his face into the side of Pidge’s neck, and she tried very hard not to blush, though she was not at all successful.  “Fine, if you want to.”

“Fine, then I will.”

She stuck out her tongue at him, and he laughed again.

“Nice to see you, Hunk.”

“Likewise,” he mumbled, but Matt had already turned and gone back into the house.

“He’s gone,” Pidge murmured.  “Are you okay?”

“I’ve never been so embarrassed in my _life_ ,” Hunk groaned.

“Did you come?”

He nodded, and leaned back slightly.  “I need to clean up before it soaks through to my pants.”

Pidge looked down: he was wearing khakis.  Sometimes he wore black pants with his work uniform, but apparently not today.  She slid off his lap, ignoring the insistent throbbing between her own legs.  “You know where the bathroom is.”

He stood up, already fussing with the crotch of his pants.  “If Matt sees me I’m going to die, just FYI.”

“Matt’s smart, he knows he doesn’t want to know what just happened.”

“Great.”  He stretched to look around the corner, and was apparently satisfied that Pidge’s brother had vanished.  “I’ll be right back.”

 

 

Sam and Colleen got home while Hunk was cleaning himself up, and to her relief didn’t seem to notice anything weird -- it was common enough for Hunk to be there, the only big difference was their recent fight, though Mom and Dad were both clearly pleased that they’d made up.

Hunk invited Pidge to come over right away and then spend the night at his house; the public reason for not staying at the Holts’ longer was that he wanted to get out of his work clothes, which smelled like deli meats.  Pidge’s family offered no resistance -- though she did get a smirk from Matt, the bastard -- so she packed up her backpack with overnight things as quickly as she could, and promised she’d be home in the morning when Hunk brought her back on his way to work.

Hunk’s mother wasn’t there when they got to his house, and he didn’t expect her to get home for another couple of hours.  He ushered Pidge into his bedroom, and rather than changing into clean clothes, he simply removed his work uniform and let it fall on the floor.  Pidge undressed slowly, watching him, and had only managed to remove her glasses and t-shirt by the time Hunk was fully nude and turned his attention to her.

His kisses and caresses were a full-body, multi-sensory experience; he kissed her neck as he ran his hands across her hips to her back, and nibbled across her collarbone as he unhooked her bra and slipped it off her.

She wasn’t sure whose idea it was for her to stumble backwards onto his bed, but she did and he was right there, covering her with kisses that were a little rougher than simple kisses.  And not just because he was using his teeth: when he rubbed his cheek across her nipple, there was a gentle scratch of stubble.  As he kissed down her belly she found herself wondering if he could grow a beard, and if so, why he hadn’t tried yet.  She thought briefly that she might like him with a beard.א

Philosophical questions were no longer important when he unbuttoned her shorts, and she lifted her hips so he could slide them down her legs.  Her panties were next, and she could tell by his attention what he wanted to do.

He glanced up at her through his hair.  “This okay?”

“God, yes.”

He grinned, and looked back down at her, pushing her legs gently apart.  “Good.”

And then his mouth disappeared from view, and it was _almost_ not weird this time.  She still twitched, ticklish, but his confidence overrode everything else and she blissfully thought of nothing until he brought her to climax with his lips and tongue.  It was almost unsatisfying, though, and only left her hungry for more.  When he kissed her thigh and then pulled away to find a condom, she lifted herself up on her elbows to watch, and was pleased to see that his cock was good and hard.

“So you can go again this soon?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder.  “Apparently so.  Can you?”

She laughed; they’d identified her ability to have multiple orgasms very quickly after they’d started having sex.  “You know I can.”

He finished with the sheath, and then lowered himself over her, pressing a musky kiss to her lips.  “How long do you think you can go?” he breathed.

“I dunno.”  She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips.  “How long can you?”

He reached down between them and pressed inside her.  Pidge let her head fall back into the pillow with delight -- _this_ was what she was craving.

Hunk moved languidly, like he was taking his time, getting to know each angle before he changed it up.  When Pidge’s hip started to get sore, she lifted her knees up as high as she could; Hunk seemed surprised for a moment, but then hooked an elbow under her knee and the angle was completely new again.  She felt less full this way, but the rubbing against her g-spot made up for it.  He pushed her closer and closer, watching her carefully as she began to tip over, and kept the momentum to draw her through a second orgasm, a deep one that had her gasping and moaning out loud, the noise of it stretching it out even longer.

He kissed her when she was finished, and it was hard and desperate and unrefined, and his teeth clicked against hers uncomfortably before he pulled away with a little gasp.  “I want to try something.”

 _She would do anything for him right now._  “Sure.”

“Turn over?”

Pidge swung her leg over and flopped sideways, and the motion in her hips felt a little strange.  She got her arms and legs underneath her, pushed up onto her hands and knees, and looked over her shoulder at Hunk.  He was right behind her, his big hands on her hips, holding and stroking.  “Like this?” she murmured.

He nodded, licking his lips.  “I think so.”  He shifted forward, and she had to spread her knees to make room for him.  He bumped his hips forward, grinding against her ass, and something about this position turned her insides to jelly.  It was so good she almost let herself collapse, but she didn’t want to change anything until they actually got going.

Hunk clearly had a good view, because he slipped into her easily and started thrusting gently, slowly, shallowly.  Pidge lowered her head to rest her forehead on her folded arms, and pressed her hips back into Hunk, who dug his fingers into the flesh of her hips and fucked her harder for a moment with a little grunt in the back of his throat.  He was so _deep_ like this, and the little bit of roughness was … it was something she hadn’t realized they could have.

“Okay?” he gasped, and she nodded, trying to form words

“Yeah.  Keep going.”

She felt him bend over her and tighten his grip again, and _ohhh god this is what being fucked is really about, isn’t it?_  He was so strong above her and she was trembling again, weak from her orgasms and lost in the unexpected delight of this position.

But all too soon he groaned and stilled, one big hand in the center of her back and damp with sweat.  “I want to see your face,” he said, trying to catch his breath.  “I’m super close but I want to be able to kiss you.”

Kisses were good, and Pidge wasn’t capable of speech at the moment, so she just nodded.  Hunk pulled out and she collapsed a little, rolled over with his help and wrapped her arms around his chest as he braced his huge biceps on either side of her head and thrust into her with more power than finesse; it only worked because she was so wet, _so_ wet, and she kissed him desperately while he gasped and then he was crying out as he climaxed.

He sank down on top of her, sweaty and panting and heavy and hot and she loved it, she loved _him_ and she wasn’t sure if she had come again in the last few moments there.  They lay like that for a long time, just breathing as they slowly cooled down, assisted now and then by a momentary breeze through the open window.

After a couple of minutes Hunk shifted, just enough to get himself off to Pidge’s side and allow her lungs to fully expand.  Which was the limit of motion that she could manage, but that was okay.  He kissed her shoulder delicately, and she sighed.

“I’ve never felt so close to you,” Hunk breathed.

She nodded, inhaling deeply, and tried to get her eyes to open a little and look at him. She felt like she should say something deep, something about how vibrantly she felt the same, but she didn’t have the words.  “Yeah.”

He shifted again, resting his hand on her shoulder under his chin.  “Are you okay?  I realize that was kind of … yeah.”

She let the smile burst from deep in her belly and overflow onto her face.  “I’m great.  It was great.”

He let out a little breath of relief.  “I wasn’t sure if I was being too strong.”

“No, not at all.  It was … a lot, but I liked it.”

“Okay, good.”  He stretched over to brush a kiss to her cheek, and then relaxed onto the pillow.

After a couple of minutes Pidge found her voice again.  “You know, if we have sex like that every time we get together, maybe the separation for college won’t be too bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I might not be able to walk tomorrow.”

He laughed and rolled into her, pressing his face into the hollow where her neck joined her shoulder.  She pulled her arm out from under him and ran her fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry I overreacted the other day,” she whispered.

“It’s okay.”

“Thanks.  I … I understand now why you suggested it.”  She wasn’t sure where all these words were coming from, but this was definitely the time to finish this talk, so she wasn’t going to hold back.  “You know, we … my mom said to me, when I first told her we were having sex, that she was worried about us getting too wrapped up in each other.”

“My mom has mentioned that to me, too.”

“Our moms definitely talk about us.”

“Yeah.”

They were silent for a long moment before Pidge took a deep breath.  “Anyway, so … like, I definitely want to stay with you, even when we’re apart.  I mean, I’ve made that as clear as I can, I think.”

Hunk nodded on her shoulder.  “Very clear.  And I feel the same.”

She had to take a moment to build up her momentum again.  “But, you know, I’ve thought ... maybe it _will_ be good for us to have some physical distance for a while.  We’ll be together, we’ll be a couple, just long-distance.  Like, I can be sure that this is who I really am.  Make sure I’m not defining myself by you.”

“That was exactly my point,” he murmured into her skin. “I feel like being with you is the best choice I’ve ever made, but we can’t know how well we fit together if we don’t really know our own shapes.”

She shifted a little, trying to look at him.  “Are you a poet now?”

He wouldn’t meet her gaze.  “I’m trying to find the silver lining of you moving away in six weeks.”

Her heart fell.  “I know.”  She caressed his scalp.  “I’m sort of trying not to think about it.”

“I want us to work out.  I want this thing I have with you to be absolutely everything it can be.  The best relationship of all time.”

“It’s gonna be hard when we’re long-distance.”

“I know.  It’s gonna be awful.”

“Yeah.”  She tried to forcibly loosen the tightness in her chest.  “You’re worth it, though.”

He curled up and buried his face in the gentle swell of her breast, and she could feel her heart beating against him.  “You’re worth anything.”


	8. Going Away to College

_Why does it feel the same_   
_To fall in love or break it off and_   
_If love is just a game_   
_I must have missed the kickoff_

_Don’t depend on_   
_Me to ever follow through on_   
_Anything but_   
_I’d go through hell for you and_

_I haven’t been this scared  
In a long time _

 

The day that Pidge was going to leave for Michigan Tech, Hunk woke up alone in his bed.

He had asked her to stay over with him, and he could tell that she wanted to, but her parents wanted her at home.  So instead he’d spent the whole day at her house, helping her pack everything she was going to take along, and after dinner with her family he came home alone.

Well, not completely alone; his mom was there, of course.  And she clearly saw how upset he was that he couldn’t spend this last night with Pidge, and did her best to distract him with a movie before bed.  It didn’t work very well, but he appreciated her effort.

His alarm woke him at the usual time.  He didn’t have work today, but Pidge was leaving really early, and he wanted to be there to load the last few things into the car and see her off.  So he got up and got dressed, and he poured himself a bowl of cereal, but he had no appetite and could barely bring himself to choke down half of it.  His mother watched him as she was getting ready to leave for work, but she didn’t say anything when he put the bowl in the sink with mushy cereal still in it.

Before he headed over to Pidge’s house, he let himself hesitate for a minute, sitting in his car in the driveway.  He pulled out his cell phone; it was fairly new, his mom had gotten both of them on a family plan since he was about to start school and she wanted it to be easier for them to keep in touch.  As a bonus, it came with unlimited nights and weekends, which he knew would be heavily used talking to Pidge.

He flipped it open, pulled up his contacts -- there were only six so far -- and chose _Pidge Cell_.  She’d gotten hers about a week before him, and also had unlimited nights and weekends.  She answered after two rings.  “Hello.”

“Hi.”  It was nice not to have to announce himself -- the novelty of caller ID was something they’d both become used to immediately, and he could always tell by her tone that she knew it was him.  “I’m about to head over.”

“Cool.  I’m about to have breakfast and then we’re going to do the last of the loading up.”

“Great.  I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“All right.”  He heard the smile in her tone, and it felt like a knife in his heart.  “See you soon.”

He flipped the phone shut and stuffed it into his pocket, then put both hands on the steering wheel and squeezed so hard it made his knuckles go pale.   _You can do this.  You_ _have to_ _do this, it’s the last time you’re going to see her until Thanksgiving._

Thanksgiving was impossibly far away.  He refused to think about it and put the key in the ignition.

At Pidge’s house, the minivan was in the driveway, and Sam was fitting something into its back while Hunk parked on the street.  As soon as he was out of the car, Pidge burst out the front door of the house and launched herself at him.  He caught her, and let her momentum spin them around a little bit.  Once her feet were back on the ground he tightened his grip, trying to tell her _I wish you weren’t leaving_.

She dug her fingertips into his shoulders and pressed her face into his chest.  “I missed you last night,” she whispered.

He had barely slept.  “I missed you too.”

She pulled back just enough to kiss him, and she tasted like coffee with a whiff of toothpaste.  It was how her morning kisses always tasted, and he savored it, along with the soft press of her lips and the weight of her arms around his neck.

But too soon her dad called for her, and he wanted to help her get the last of her things into the car but it was already packed.  He gave her one more kiss, and the strongest hug he could muster, and then she promised she’d call when she arrived, and she got into the car.  He stood on the front sidewalk and watched them pull away as a void opened up inside him.

Hunk tried to be glad that he made it all the way home and into the bathroom before he threw up.

He felt like he was dying.  Like everything good in the world had driven away in that godawful minivan and he would never know happiness again.

He brushed his teeth and washed his face.  It didn’t make him feel good, and his stomach was still upset, but he didn’t think he was going to barf again.  There was nothing left anyway.

He dragged himself down the hall and crawled into bed, and then the crying started.  He wasn’t even sure why it was happening, but it felt like the only thing he could do, it was the only thing in the universe that he had any power in so he was going to do that, he was going to lie here and sob until he stopped breathing or passed out or the universe just went ahead and ceased to exist.

It was so _stupid_ to feel this way.  Like, yeah she was his best friend, and he loved her with his entire being, but she wasn’t going _away_ away, they would still talk on the phone and on AIM and they both had Facebook now, and she had a digital camera and had promised him lots of pictures.  There was no reason for him to feel like his world was ending.

He felt it anyway.

_His bed smelled like Pidge._

It smelled like when they’d had sex three days ago.  Or, maybe it didn’t still, but he felt like it did.  How could he keep living in this room, keep sleeping in this bed without her?  Not like she’d been here all that often, but she always came back just when he felt like her scent was fading.

How many nights would he have to endure before he could sleep in her arms again?  Before he could kiss her, before he could run his fingers through her hair and watch up close the way her nose wrinkled when she laughed at something silly?

God, he had it bad.  This was _really_ bad.

 

 

When he woke up, the light was different, and it took him a good bit to realize what had woken him.  His head was heavy and fuzzy, and there was a disgusting acid taste in his mouth.  He found his cell phone on the floor next to his bed and picked it up, hardly breathing in case the name on the caller ID was about to disappear.

“Pidge?”

“Hi!” she said, sounding bright and perky.  “Guess where I am.”

He was still tremendously confused, but he managed to think to look at his alarm clock on his headboard: two in the afternoon, seven and a half hours after she’d left.  “You’re in Houghton.”

“Yup!  I got my dorm keys, now I’m waiting for Dad to find a place to park.”

“You sure got there quick.”

“Well, not really.  It’s a hell of a drive, you know that.”

“I guess.”  He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to wake up and possibly feel a little less shitty.

“Hey, Hunk, are you okay?”

_You can’t tell her._  “Yeah, fine.  Just woke up from a nap that went a bit longer than intended.”

“Ah, okay.  Gotcha.”

God, how was she so happy?  “I miss you already.”

She laughed, and through the phone she sounded so far away it could have killed him.  “You saw me this morning.”

“It’s different without you.  I really do miss you already.”

She sobered, and her voice lowered.  “I miss you too.  I wish you were here.”

He felt acutely sick again, clammy and nauseated.  “Me too.”

“I love you,” she said.  “I have to go now, Dad and Mom are back.”

He nodded, and tried to swallow the lump of bile in his throat.  “Okay.  Call me again tonight?”

“Definitely,” she said.  “I’m not sure what time but I’ll find a few minutes, no matter what.  Do you work tomorrow?”

“Yeah.  Opening shift.”

“Okay, I’ll call you before you go to bed.”

“Don’t forget the time change, too.”

She laughed.  “Right, I’m in the Eastern time zone now.  Well, that makes it easier for me, anyway.  Okay, I really do have to go now.  Love you.”

“Love you too.  Bye.”

She hung up with a _click_ while he was still holding the phone to his ear.  He lowered it slowly, wishing he could still be connected to her, but the display just gave him a passive _Call Ended._

Hunk stood up slowly, straightened his clothing, and then went and brushed his teeth again, trying to get the taste out of his mouth.  He wasn’t sure what to do after that, so he booted up his computer and logged into Facebook to see if anything was happening there.  Pidge obviously hadn’t posted anything, she hadn’t unpacked her computer yet, so he spent a couple minutes clicking around her profile before he went to see what Lance had been up to.

Lance was apparently on a mission to add everyone in their class at UWM to his friends, and so far had nearly four hundred.  Hunk wasn’t sure if that was really the point of Facebook -- if it had a point.  He hadn’t yet quite worked out what it was for, but it was nice to have one more to keep in touch with Pidge while she was away.  She had promised to post pictures regularly, and made him promise the same.

He wished he had something to post for her right now, but nothing was happening and it wasn’t like he had a digital camera anyway.  Lance did, but that didn’t do him much good.  Maybe just a status update?  At least to let her know he was thinking of her.

Well, obviously she knew he was thinking of her, they’d just spoken.  But still.  She would like that he’d posted it publicly, probably.  She seemed to like it when they were a little bit public with their affection.

_Hunk is_

He stared at the blank space.  Lonely as fuck?  Missing Pidge terribly?  Those were about as subtle as putting “Every Time We Touch” lyrics as his AIM away message.  Which he might do anyway, he felt shitty and being really dramatic about it might make it a little better.  It was worth a try, anyway.

He pulled up AIM and set his away message.  It was such a MySpace thing to do, but here he was anyway.  At least he was leaving out the part about barfing, that would have been too much.

That white space in Facebook was still sitting there.  He took a deep breath and decided he might as well be melodramatic.

_Hunk is wishing she could have stayed a little longer.  Miss you already, Pidge._

 

 

When Hana got home a couple of hours later, Hunk was still online, though he’d eventually left Facebook in favor of watching Strong Bad Email -- at least those he didn’t have to do anything, he could just let it play one at random and watch for a few minutes.  Pidge loved these, found them absolutely delightful.  Normally Hunk did too, but today he was finding it a huge struggle to feel anything other than despair.

His mother called hello to him, and he answered, and then when the video finished a few seconds later he went out to the living room and sat on the couch.  He wasn’t sure why he’d done it; maybe he just needed some human contact?  It seemed like a bad choice, all he wanted to do was stop existing.  He watched his mom while she put away her things, and when she finished she turned her attention to him and immediately became worried.

“Tsuyoshi, are you feeling okay?”

He couldn’t lie to her. “No.”

She sat beside him on the couch. “Is it because Pidge left?”

He nodded, and found he couldn’t speak.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” She gathered him into her embrace, and he almost collapsed. God, he wished he had any crying left. He just wanted to cry and for his mother to comfort him and make everything better.

“I threw up,” he mumbled, and she stroked his hair.

“When?”

“This morning.  Right after she left.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”  She held him as tightly as she could.  “Did you feel better after?  Have you eaten at all?”

He shook his head.  “Still feel sick.”

“Poor kid.”  She was still stroking his hair, and he was starting to think that it felt kind of nice, it was actually a little bit soothing.  “I could get you some dramamine?”

“No, I already slept all day.”

“How about antacids?”

She never really turned off her pharmacist side, did she?  “Not now.”

She relaxed a bit, leaning back into the couch, and he sank a little deeper into her embrace.  He still felt like he was dying, but now, with Mom here, the hurt wasn’t quite so unbearable.

 

 

Pidge’s room was on the second floor of Wadsworth Hall, down near the west end of the very long building.  The door was open when she got there, and a tall girl with warm brown skin and dark hair was pointing at some of the furniture and talking to a middle-aged woman, who was pretty clearly her mother.  They both turned when Pidge tapped on the door frame, and the girl’s face lit up.  “Pidge!”

Pidge smiled at her, and came into the room with her parents behind her.  “Hi, Shay.  Great to finally meet in person, huh?”

Shay grinned; they’d been emailing regularly for about a month, and Pidge had recently added her as a friend on Facebook.  “No kidding.  Say, we were just thinking about the furniture?  Since we’ve got the bathroom it’s super cramped in here, what would you think about having bunk beds?”

Pidge set down the box she was carrying on the desk in the corner.  “Sure.  I’d prefer the bottom bunk, if that’s okay?”

“Perfect, I like to be on top.”  Shay seemed immediately to realize the suggestive nature of her statement, and she turned a bit pink and cleared her throat.  “Okay, so that means we need to stack the beds.”

Pidge turned and looked at her dad, who had her big rolling suitcase and shoved it into the corner.  “I can help lift,” he said.  “Is there some hardware to stabilize it?”

“Yeah, here,” Shay’s mom said, going to the desk by the window and pulling some metal pegs out of the drawer.  “Which side do you girls want it on?”

They looked at each other, and after a minute of discussion had decided exactly where they wanted their bunk bed to be, and how they would orient the pieces.  Shay helped Pidge’s father do the lifting, and by the time they had it firmly in place and the mattress back in place, Shay’s father returned with a milk crate of her things.

Six people was a few too many in their room, though.  Since all of their large belongings had been brought in already, they banished their parents to the lounge at the end of the hall and spent a good hour arranging everything.

The best part was that Shay had brought and old TV with a built-in VCR, as well as the XBOX that she’d bought with her summer job earnings.  They were careful to find the best possible spot for the setup, so that it would be possible to play while both sitting in bed.  Once that was in place, and Shay’s bright shag rug was in the middle of the floor and Pidge’s minifridge was plugged in and getting cold, it actually started to feel a little bit homey.

Shay climbed up into her bed for a flop, and Pidge laid down on her own bare mattress and put her feet up on the underside of Shay’s bunk.

“You know what we need?” Shay said.

“What?”

“A comfy chair.”  There was a squeaky sound of her rolling over, and she leaned down over the edge to look at Pidge.  “If we stack our dressers we can put it there, in the corner by the window.  That’ll be nice for reading and stuff.”

“That would be cool,” Pidge agreed.  “Where are we gonna get one, though?”

“There’s this ancient recliner in my parents’ basement,” Shay said.  “My younger brother has it all full of his farts right now, but since I took my XBOX there’s nothing for him to play while he stinks it up.  Maybe I can have them bring it at family weekend.”

“Maybe,” Pidge said.  “Though if we stack our dressers where will we put the bookshelves?  As it is I can barely reach the top.”

Shay sighed and flopped back down on her mattress.  “Short people problems, huh?”

Pidge kicked the underside of her roommate’s bed and grinned.  “Don’t think I can’t clamber up there and kick your ass just because I’m only five foot three.”

“You can put your bookshelf inside your wardrobe,” Shay said.  “You hobbits like that kind of stuff, right?  Things tucked away in pockets?”

Pidge laughed.  “Who told you that, Longshanks?  It’s supposed to be a secret.”

“Like you can keep secrets from us tall folk,” Shay laughed.

Pidge silently thanked any god who would listen that her roommate was _the best_ sort of nerd.  “We’re going to have to find some Lord of the Rings DVDs and have a big-ass marathon at some point.”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Maybe I’ll even try my hand at the lembas bread that Hunk made once.  Ooh, or if we’re really lucky he’ll bake some and mail it to me.”

“Hunk?  Oh, right, your boyfriend.”  Pidge couldn’t quite discern Shay’s tone without seeing her face.  She decided to assume it wasn’t negative.

“Yeah.  You should meet him sometime, maybe he’ll come to visit on one of his breaks or something.  He’s my best friend, too, so if you like me I bet you’ll like him.”

“It takes a lot for a dude to impress me,” Shay said, and there was a definite undercurrent of scorn.  “I’ll give it a shot, though.  If nothing else, in the spirit of roommate harmony.”

“He’s a great chef.  That impresses most people.”

Shay laughed, and Pidge hoped she wasn’t imagining the bit of gentleness it held, the shift in her tone.  “Well, if he’s a great chef that’s definitely a point in his favor.  I do love food, and I have a feeling the dining hall here might not be that good.”

“It’s pretty all right,” Pidge said.  “I ate there when I came up for preview weekend.”

“Oh, cool.  I couldn’t make it to that.”

“Well, you’re here now.”  Pidge pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the time.  “And I think they’re about to open for dinner.  Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”  There was another sound of moving, and then Shay’s legs dangled over the edge of the bed before she hopped down.  “Oh, shit, that was sort of a big drop.”

Pidge sat up.  “Okay?”

“Yeah, good.”  She shook herself, and then smiled at Pidge.  “Let’s take our parents to dinner.”

 

 

After they’d eaten -- and Shay conceded that the food was pretty good -- they spent another couple of hours letting their families help them get moved in, until finally their parents headed off to their hotels to let Pidge and Shay settle in for the night.  Once they’d made their beds Shay decided to break in their new bathroom with a very long shower, which gave Pidge the opportunity to finally call Hunk.

She laid down on her bed, with her pillow on the side by the window, and he answered after the first ring.  “Hey, Pidge.”

His tone was one of relief, and she tried not to feel the same -- she was at college, she was having fun.  “Hey!  How’s it going?”

“Fine.  How’s it going with you?”

“Pretty great, actually.  My roommate is as awesome in person as she is on paper.”

He chuckled, and it seemed flat, but maybe that was just the phone.  “That’s always a good thing.”

They fell quiet; Pidge couldn’t even hear him breathing over the sound of the shower, which was louder than she’d expected.  She could hear gentle splashes and splatters as Shay moved around.

Hunk cleared his throat weakly.  “I guess not much has changed since this afternoon.”

“Guess not.”  Pidge rolled over.  “I’m pretty tired, it’s been a long day.”

“You should get some sleep, then.  I’ll let you go.”

She tried very hard not to read anything into that very common Midwestern turn of phrase; he said it all the time.  “Should we talk tomorrow evening?”

“Sure, I’m wide open in the evenings until further notice.  Same time?”

“Yeah.  I’ll let you know if it looks like I’ll have something, but sometime around now.”

“Sounds great.”  He was quiet for a breath, and then, softly:  “I love you, Pidge.”

“I love you too.”  She closed her eyes, cupping the phone to her cheek and wishing she was touching him.  But it was cold plastic, and a stab of sadness made her almost want to cry for a moment.  “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.  Good night.”

“Good night.”

Pidge kept the phone up to her ear for what seemed like a long time, and when she finally took it down the call had already ended.

She flipped the phone shut, and got up to plug it in since the battery was getting pretty low.  Had to be sure there was enough juice to talk to Hunk again tomorrow -- she had a feeling that this would become an important routine, something vital to making the long-distance thing work.  She already didn’t like it, but she was just going to have to learn to get used to it.

 

 

Hunk’s freshman orientation at UWM was a week to the day after Pidge left.  Even though they talked every evening, after seven days he still missed her acutely -- and hadn’t recovered his appetite.  But he was beginning to become used to it enough that he went, and even had a pretty good time.  Lance was there, which helped an awful lot; he began to feel like he could regain some of his excitement about going to college with his friend.

On their lunch break, Hunk nibbled half of the peanut butter sandwich he’d brought from home -- it was the most he’d eaten in one go since Pidge left.  And it seemed to be sitting okay, he didn't immediately feel like he had to get out the bottle of liquid antacid that his mother had bought for him, which he carried everywhere now.

And for the first time in a week, he felt like maybe he could actually make this work.  He missed Pidge tremendously, and he _hated_ missing her, absolutely hated it, but he could get through this, and he could be strong on his own without depending on her to be there and hold his hand.

It was going to be okay.

It was going to have to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates to this fic are likely to slow way down for a few months while I work on a different project which has a deadline, and looks like it’ll end up pretty long and involved. That said, I will come back to this after, I promise! I have too much already written to not finish it.


	9. Unwell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, baby! Thanks for your patience during the hiatus.
> 
> ["Unwell" by Matchbox 20](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WziA88-n02k)

_I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell  
_ _I know, right now you can't tell._

 

Hana let herself in the back door of the house. The kitchen was dark, but she'd seen a light on in the living room and in her son's bedroom as she pulled into the driveway. Now that it was the middle of September, it was getting dark earlier and earlier, so even though she hadn't been at work all that late, it felt like it was deep in the evening.

"Hello?" she called.

"Hi, Mom." His voice was soft, distant, tired.

She set her purse in its usual spot on the counter, dropped her lunch Tupperware in the sink, and wound her way into the house. Hunk was in his room, hunched over a thick textbook at his desk and fidgeting with a mechanical pencil.

"Homework?"

"Mm-hmm."

Hana took a look at the page -- seemed to be calculus. Hunk's messy handwriting covered half a page in his notebook. And he wasn't picking up on her conversational hints.

She leaned against the door frame and tried again. "When are you talking to Pidge tonight?"

Hunk sighed, leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms across his chest. It occurred to Hana that his shirt looked loose, and that his cheeks were not as full as she was used to them being. "We're not talking tonight," he said, as though to form the words took all of his energy.

"No? I thought that was an every night kind of thing."

He shook his head. "Not any more. We're both busy."

By which he clearly meant that _Pidge_ was busy; even though Hana had made it abundantly clear to Hunk that he was now allowed to come and go as he pleased, to stay out and go out whenever he wanted, he always came directly home when his classes were over for the day and didn't go out again until he had to leave for class the next day. The only other times he went out were for the few hours each week that he was still working at Sendik's. She knew that he wasn't doing homework the entire time he was at home, he spent quite a bit of time sleeping, and watching things on his little television in his room, and clicking aimlessly on his computer.

"I thought maybe you'd be hanging out with Lance tonight. It's Friday, aren't there parties or something you want to go to?"

Hunk shrugged, and kept his gaze turned away from her, staring vaguely at the textbook. "I'm not really interested in the kind of parties they throw on campus. Lots of beer and people acting like morons."

Well, he'd certainly made up his mind. "How is Lance these days?"

Hunk shrugged again. "He seems fine. I don't see him much."

"I thought you were eating lunch together some days?"

"He has other friends now."

Which was a red flag if Hana had ever seen one. Hunk and Lance had spent the summer excited about starting college in the fall, eager to carpool downtown and hang out and meet new people on campus, but since school had started Hana hadn't heard anything about Lance from her son -- or about any other new friends. She was sure that Lance hadn't cut him out; from what she saw in front of her, Hunk was isolating himself. He hadn't made any friends because he was never there. He didn't miss class, of course -- she didn't think he did, anyway -- but it was clear that he wasn't socializing with anyone. At first she'd thought it was because he was spending so much time on the phone with Pidge, but whereas he'd spoken to her every night for the first several weeks after she left, more recently Hana had only rarely come home in the evening to find Hunk on his cell. Had he missed his opportunity to meet people at the beginning of the semester?

He picked up his pencil again, and she watched as he spun it aimlessly on his hand as he returned his attention to the textbook.

God, he really didn't look like himself. She'd thought for a while that he was looking thin, and now that she finally had the time to get a good look at him, she was certain. His clothes hung off him, his jaw was less round, and his skin looked dry. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch his cheek.

"Honey, are you feeling okay?"

He shrugged, and didn't look up. "I'm fine."

Who did he think he was, lying to her? "No, but really."

He sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say."

She bit her lip, and put her hands in the pockets of her scrub top. "You haven't cooked for us in a while."

He finally looked up, but his face was marred with a frown. "I didn't realize that was something I had to do."

"No, you don't, I just mean ... you know, you've always loved to cook."

"I've been busy."

"Please, Tsuyoshi, don't treat me like I'm stupid."

Her use of his full name got his attention, as she expected it would -- he knew when that came out that it was time to stop fucking around. He blinked, looking like he might cry. "I still don't know what you want me to say."

She sighed -- there was clearly a lot of crap to dig through here. She stepped into the room, past him, and sat on the edge of his bed. "You don't seem like yourself these days," she said softly. "I'm worried about you. I feel like you're sick but you're not complaining about anything so I don't know what's happening."

He turned sideways in his chair and leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. "I ... I don't know. I haven't felt ... _right_ in a while."

"How so?"

"I don't really know. I just ... I can barely eat. I feel sick to my stomach a lot, and I've thrown up a few times after lunch at school. But it's just like ... you know, I've been using the antacid you got me. I'm getting by."

"I think you've lost weight."

"Yeah, I know. My pants don't stay up."

"Hunk, this isn't nothing."

He closed his eyes, and looked like he was going to cry, but no tears fell. "Yeah, I'm getting that."

"This started the day Pidge left, didn't it?"

He nodded, and his voice, when he forced it out a few seconds later, was a hoarse whisper. "I miss her so much."

Hana reached out and set a hand on his knee, caressing, trying to be as comforting as possible. For the first time in her life, her son was in over his head with something that she felt powerless to fix. Not only that, but the problem itself was something she had no experience of her own with. She'd never been attached to someone the way Hunk and Pidge were clearly attached to each other, she'd never loved as deeply, as overwhelmingly as they did -- not in a romantic sense, anyway. Even with Hunk's father; she'd thought at one time that she might marry him, but when he left, it was a relief. Looking back, she didn't know why she thought marriage was an option. She'd been young, she didn't know. She hadn't really loved Ikuo, not how Hunk loved Pidge.

The only thing in her life that could compare was her devotion to her son. And now he was sick, he was hurting, and even though he was kind of an adult now she was still his _mother,_ her heart knew that she still had to take care of him, that she always would.

But god, it was difficult. She didn't know what was wrong -- her pharmaceutical solution, the best solution she had, was apparently only a patch. His stomach issues were just a symptom of something else, and he needed medical attention, but he'd been kicked off her health insurance when he graduated from high school. Even though she would always take care of him, Froedtert Hospital and the IRS said he wasn't a dependent any more.

Hunk shifted, lifting his hand to wipe his face of the tears that had finally fallen.

"I think you should go to the student clinic next week."

He sniffed, and looked up at her. "What?"

"You need to see a doctor about this. I'd make you an appointment but you don't have insurance any more, so I think the student clinic is your best bet."

"Oh. Yeah, right." He wiped the rest of the wetness from his cheeks, and sat up straight. "I guess I'll go after my morning class on Monday."

"Okay." It was the best she could hope to get right now. "I'm about to make some dinner, you hungry?"

He looked sad. "No."

"Will you come hang out with me anyway?"

He sighed, and he didn't smile, but he set his pencil on the desk and stood up. "All right."

 

Hunk went to the clinic when his class got done at ten, and only had to wait a few minutes before he was seen by the NP on duty. He described is issues to her, and she asked a few questions that hit uncomfortably close to the knot in his heart that was his feelings about Pidge's absence.

He left with an OTC pack of omeprazole, and a referral to student mental health services. He stopped there next -- it was just in [another part of the union?? look it up], and it wasn't like he was going to eat during his lunch break. The girl at the reception desk seemed very blasé about the whole thing, but she made him an appointment with one of the counselors for Wednesday afternoon.

Wednesday came, and Hunk did his best to eat breakfast before he left for campus, but the new medication hadn't kicked in yet -- his mom had said it could take a few days before he was feeling better. He wasn't sure if he hoped it would happen soon, or if it would turn out that this didn't help and he would just have to keep suffering Pidge's absence. Which was kind of fucked up, he supposed, but he had been feeling less and less like himself the longer she was away, and he almost didn't remember what _normal_ was like. This was just his life now.

Wednesday was also one of the days that he and Lance had been having lunch together, before Hunk had given up trying to eat, or acting like he was trying to eat, and now Lance had a bunch of new friends who liked to go to the dining hall anyway. It definitely wasn't worth it to pay for an all-you-can-eat meal when all he could eat was, like, half a bottle of water.

His afternoon class went by in a blur, and he found his way back to mental health services for his appointment. He was considerably early, but it wasn't like he could do anything else, so he sat in the waiting room reading the titles of the pamphlets over and over. _Eating Disorders. Grief. Depression. Anxiety. My Roommate Stinks! Safe Sex. Managing Stress._

Finally the door opened, and a youngish man with light skin, brown hair, and a stubble beard stepped halfway out. "Tsuyoshi?"

Hunk stood up. "Got it right on the first try."

The man smiled. "I do my best. I'm Ryan. Come on back."

Hunk followed him to a small room with a couple of armchairs and a little window that looked out onto the changing leaves of a tree. He set down his backpack and took the chair nearest the window. Ryan sat down in the other and crossed his legs, then picked up a clipboard from the little table. "So what brings you in?"

Hunk folded his hands together on his knees and squeezed tightly. "The clinic referred me."

Ryan raised his eyebrows, and sat back in the chair. "Okay, why did they send you?"

Hunk sighed right down to his toes; he wasn't going to be able to weasel out of this, Ryan was too canny. "I've been feeling sick for a while, lost a bunch of weight since I can't really eat. My stomach has always been kind of sensitive, but nothing like this. The nurse thought it could be stress."

Ryan nodded, and jotted something on the clipboard. "You're a freshman, right?"

"Yeah."

"You live on campus?"

"No, I'm from Wauwatosa so I'm living at home with my mom still."

"Hm." He made another note. "Just the two of you?"

"Yeah."

"And how are things at home with mom?"

Hunk shrugged. "Fine. Pretty much the same as usual, except I have my own car now and she doesn't make me tell her when I'm going out or coming back or anything."

"That's nice. Plenty of freedom."

"I guess."

"You guess? Do you not like it?"

"It's not that I don't like it, I just ... I'm not really using it. I pretty much go right home after school and she knows my class and work schedules."

"Hm, okay." He looked at the clipboard for a moment with his tongue between his lips, and then looked back up. "Do you have friends on campus? People you went to high school with, or people you've met here?"

"Some of my high school friends are here, but I haven't seen much of them. I have a class with my buddy Lance, and for a while we were having lunch together but he's been hanging out with people I don't know."

"You haven't met them?"

Hunk shrugged, trying not to feel like an absolute loser who was incapable of meeting people. He stared at his hands, twisting them together until his knuckles protested.

Ryan was quiet for a minute, as though he was waiting for Hunk to answer, but he seemed to realize pretty quickly that no reply was forthcoming. "What about relationships? Are you dating anyone? Were you in high school?"

The acid rose in Hunk's throat, and he did his best to swallow it back. "Yeah, uh. My girlfriend Katie. Well, I call her Pidge. We were best friends since sixth grade, and then got together senior year but she's off at Michigan Tech now."

That seemed to get Ryan's interest. "That's in the UP, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"And you guys are still together? Long-distance?"

"Yeah. We...." God, should he admit this? He didn't even know Ryan. But then again, this had been weighing on his heart for weeks, maybe it would help to say it. "Originally we wanted to go there together, but I couldn't afford it."

Ryan sure had an expressive face. He leaned forward. "So you got in to Tech, but UWM was your backup, and you made your choice based on money."

"Yeah."

"And how are things going with Pidge? I bet you guys talk a lot."

"Less now than before," Hunk admitted, and talking about this was proving to be even worse than keeping it to himself, he felt like he was about to cry. "You know, she ... she's busy. She's making friends and stuff. For a while we talked every day, but we're down to three times a week now."

Ryan nodded. "Long-distance relationships are really hard."

"No kidding."

"Are you in touch other ways? Online?"

"Yeah, we're on AIM most nights. We chat a little."

Ryan was writing again. "You said she was your best friend too, right?"

"Yeah. For six years." Was she still his best friend? Was this past tense now?

"I bet you guys did everything together, huh?"

A wave of emotion came out of nowhere and overwhelmed Hunk. Suddenly the tears in his eyes were too many to hold back, and he curled up, a hand over his face as he tried to swallow the sobs that had been building and building inside him for a month. He and Pidge had done _everything_ together, and now without her he couldn't do _anything_. He was nothing without her.

Something brushed his hand, and he looked up; Ryan was holding out a tissue box. "It's all right. Let it out."

Hunk took a couple of tissues and wiped his face, blew his nose. He could still feel the storm inside him, but he'd gotten enough out that he could keep the rest back.

"Tell me what you're thinking right now," Ryan said softly.

Hunk shook his head. "A lot -- a lot of things."

"What's one?"

Fuck, he might as well do it. He'd already burst into tears in front of Ryan, what was one more? "I feel like I'm nothing without her."

 

By the end of the hour, Hunk was exhausted, and Ryan had almost filled his sheet of loose-leaf paper on the clipboard. Ever since he'd first mentioned Pidge, she was the only thing they talked about. It was like Ryan had seen that knot inside him, and now he had Hunk picking at it, going from every direction, pulling and prodding, and every time one part got looser another got tighter.

"We're just about out of time," Ryan finally said, glancing over his notes. "It's clear that we've got a lot here to work on. I'm glad the nurse referred you, it's pretty clear to me that your problems are primarily emotional, and you've got some physical side effects of that. Tentatively, I'd diagnose you with an adjustment disorder connected to Pidge moving away."

Hunk nodded, and weirdly, he felt better than he had in the entire session -- a diagnosis? He had something that Ryan knew about. Ryan _understood_? "Oh."

"I want to see you regularly, can you do this same time next week?"

"Yeah, sure." He didn't want to come back, not after how exhausting this had been, but he supposed if he got a tiny bit of relief again it might be worth it.

"And until then" -- Ryan leaned forward again, with a gentle look on his face -- "I want you to reach out to your friends. Lance, or someone else from high school who's here. Hang out with someone you know who's not your mom. Okay?"

Reaching out to Lance felt like trying to flap his arms and fly to Hawaii. "I'll try."

"Give him a call today," Ryan said, a little more firmly. "I'm sure he'll be excited to talk to you."

Hunk wasn't sure at all. "I'll call him."

"Great." Ryan smiled, all bright white teeth, and stood up. "Thanks again for coming in. Be safe on your way home, all right?"

Hunk got up, and tried to smile, but he wasn't sure how successful he was. He disguised it by bending down to collect his backpack. "Okay. Thanks."

 

Hunk called Lance when he got home, and they made plans to hang out at lunch on Friday before their class together, and then in the afternoon as well. Hunk wasn't certain that he was up for so much socializing, especially since Lance's other friends were going to be there, but he figured he should give it a try. Actually get the whole college experience.

Afterwards, he called Pidge, right at five o'clock as they had scheduled, and she picked up instantly. They talked for half an hour, she told him about Pokemon club that her roommate was trying to get her to join, he told her about the guy who had embarrassed himself in literature class that afternoon. And then she had to go to dinner.

He didn't tell her about going to the clinic, or his new medication, or that he'd seen the counselor. It was becoming clear that this was all about her, and there was absolutely no way he was going to dump all of his crap onto her. He didn't want their talks to become about how he was sick, he just wanted to be happy with her. He just wanted everything to be how it used to be.

 

September wore on, classes got harder, and Hunk kept his appointments with Ryan. Each week got heavier, though. Ryan really dug deep into Hunk's relationship with Pidge, which left him feeling exposed and like he'd been doing something wrong. Ryan began referring to his condition as separation anxiety, and they talked a lot about how Hunk had spent most of his adolescence defining himself as half of a pair, as Hunk-and-Pidge, inseparable best friends turned lovers. He had never quite learned how to be his own person -- and that was probably the worst realization of all of this.

Hunk _wanted_ to be himself. He thought he knew himself, knew who he was without using Pidge as a point of reference, but it was becoming clearer and clearer that there were lots of occasions where he was used to leaning on her, and now that she wasn't there, it left him flailing. Unable to thrive.

It began to color the way he interacted with her, when they talked on the phone or chatted on AIM. With Ryan's help, he was seeing how he was still trying to cling to her, to act like she was right here and nothing had changed, when that was no longer the case. He started trying to figure out how to interact with her in the context of this new relationship they had, this one where he couldn't see her or touch her.

And it left him feeling cold. They still chatted, they still laughed, but her absence stung more than ever.

Despite that, his stomach troubles eased up, just a little. He still wasn't eating much, but for the most part he was managing two small meals a day. When he followed up with the NP after finishing the omeprazole, she was pleased with his progress, but told him to come back right away if things got worse. And of course his mother was delighted, which always counted for something.

He did his best to keep up with Lance, in an effort to fill the loneliness that was yawning open inside him as the distance from Pidge got larger and emptier. They started having lunch again -- not as frequently, but once or twice a week -- and Hunk met most of Lance's friends, who were decent people, but they were all definitely _Lance's friends_ \-- nobody was a Pidge, nobody laughed at his puns about the fundamental theorem of calculus or Pokemon or Gustav Holst. He supposed there were people like that here, and probably in his classes, but he didn't know how to meet them.

October arrived, and Hunk ached for Pidge. And he couldn't tell her.

 


	10. Be My Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Relient K, "Be My Escape"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lt-FPtnyxvs)

_I've given up_  
_On giving up slowly_  
_I'm blending in_  
_So you won't even know me_

 

Shay burst into the room, like she always did, and Pidge paused the game to greet her. "Hi."

"Hey." Shay was breathless -- it seemed like she'd been running. Which wasn't unlikely; she had joined the rowing team and they all moved at a pace that was much too brisk for Pidge. "You eat dinner already?"

Pidge had gotten into the habit of eating dinner as soon as the dining hall opened on Friday nights. Originally this was so that she could talk to Hunk right after and then have the whole evening free for First Year Experience activities, but as the semester crept forward she stopped talking to him on Fridays and mostly found herself playing XBOX and snacking alone in her room because none of the activities really spoke to her. "Yeah, I already ate."

"Oh, okay."

"You're about to go eat with the rowers?"

"Yup." Shay seemed to find the thing on her desk that she'd been digging for. "Afterwards, do you want to come to the Gamers Anonymous kickoff? I heard they're starting up a few beginner-friendly D&D campaigns."

Dungeons and Dragons was something Pidge had never quite managed to experience in high school, and she was interested in playing, but nervous about being not only a noob, but a girl noob. Being a girl made lots of things here more fraught. "I don't know, maybe."

"What, really? You were excited about it last week."

"Yeah, well, that was last week."

Shay turned to face Pidge directly and put her hands on her hips. "You're not going to stay in just to talk to Hunk, are you?"

Which stung -- Pidge had used him as an excuse to skip lots of activities, and hated that she'd become _that_ cliche. "No, we're not talking tonight."

"So come with me," Shay whined. "I don't want to be all alone, I need you to defend me from the goblin horde."

"Like you need defending."

"Come on, please?" The whining tone had given way to earnest pleading, and Pidge began to feel bad about saying _no_ to her roommate so frequently. "I've kind of got my heart set on playing with you."

Pidge sighed. "I'll think about it."

Shay bounced a little. "Great! I'll come back up here after we eat and we can go together."

"I only said I'd think about it."

Shay gave her an exaggerated wink as she pulled the door open. "See you in a bit."

 

It turned out that Pidge couldn't resist the pull of D&D -- to say nothing of the pull of Shay's hand on her arm -- and went to the club meeting. And it was fun, she had a good time making her character and playing with Shay and the other two freshmen in their party. The DM was a junior in mechanical engineering who reminded Pidge an awful lot of Hunk, and she kept thinking about him, wishing he was here playing, even anticipating the clever jokes that he would make. They played for three hours, and by the time they were all making their way up to the third floor lounge for a midnight movie, the seed of missing Hunk had sprouted into full-on feeling every mile of their separation. As if to add insult to injury, their new friends chose _Star Wars_ , which was just about the most Hunk-associated thing in the heavily Hunk-associated landscape of Pidge's life.

She only made it to Han Solo's first appearance in Mos Eisley before she couldn't take it any more, and said good night.

 

When Pidge woke up in the morning, Shay was already gone -- off at her first rowing regatta of the season. As she dragged herself out of bed, Pidge wondered how in the hell her roommate was able to keep up this schedule of early morning ergs with late-night movies and still be obnoxiously perky. Pidge had slept ten hours and felt like death.

Brunch was on in the dining hall, so she made herself decent enough (and the decency bar was really quite low in college) and headed down to eat. Some of her friends from calculus arrived at the same time, so she ate with them, and then headed back up to her room with the apology that she had homework to get to, rather than going out for a little hike with them in the gorgeous fall weather.

Which wasn't a lie, exactly. In fact, she had quite a bit of homework, that had been piling up all week while she played video games and wasted time on the internet. She really, _really_ needed to get going on that, because she had two problem sets and two hundred pages of reading due on Monday. But she also had a call with Hunk when he got off work at one o'clock Eastern, noon Central, and that wasn't something she was willing to do out on the trails.

By the time she got to her room, she only had an hour to kill. Not worth it to focus in on any homework so soon before the call, was it? An hour was hardly anything. Best to just hang out online.

She went to Facebook first; not much new since yesterday. The big thing this week was a rowing joke: _Shay Belmara is in a relationship with Ann Oar._ Ann Oar was friends with the whole crew team at Tech and a lot of people at other colleges, who Pidge assumed were also rowers. It wasn't clear who was in charge of the fake account, but Shay had apparently landed the honor of being the oar's girlfriend. For now, anyway.  Her wall was full of congratulations and innuendo that Pidge found it difficult to feel anything about.

Pidge's AIM pinged, and for a glorious second her heart soared -- but it was Matt. She chided herself; obviously it wasn't Hunk, he always worked seven to noon on Saturdays, he wasn't on AIM. She pulled up the chat window with her brother. 

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: hey little sis_

_Pidgey_0413: what's up, nerd_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: hangover DX u?_

_Pidgey_0413: just killing time until hunk calls_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: oOoOoOoOo, did i interrupt cYbEr SeX?????_

_Pidgey_0413: lmao nerd_

_Pidgey_0413: how did you make the middle school lunch room sound in IM_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: :P_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: but for serious, how are you? we haven't talked since before you moved up to houghton. i gotta make sure your settling in ok_

_Pidgey_0413: i'm doing ok. it's still kind of getting me down that hunk isnt here tho_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: yeah that was a major bummer_

Pidge hesitated.

_Pidgey_0413: it seems like everything i do, i feel like he should be there, but he's not, and its totally weird........._

She sat looking at the blinking cursor for a good couple of minutes. She knew Matt was there, looking at it; he was good about saying _afk_ if he had to duck out in the middle of something, and he was clearly online. But she'd just dropped something of a bomb on him, so it was understandable if he had to take a minute.

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: at least you're still making friends and stuff though_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: you are doing that right?_

_Pidgey_0413: yeah im making friends and doing stuff_

_Pidgey_0413: but its like_

She paused again, trying to figure out how to say it. She'd never let this come so close to the surface before, she didn't quite have words.

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: i'm listening_

Pidge sighed.  She hadn’t told any of this to anyone, but she supposed nothing was safer than venting to Matt.

_Pidgey_0413: nothing is as fun as i thought it would be_

_Pidgey_0413: like my roommate and our friends are clearly having a lot of fun but im just not that into it._

_Pidgey_0413: i want to do things but i mostly hang out in my room unless shay drags me along_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: how are classes and stuff?_

_Pidgey_0413: they're fine. i'm getting behind on homework though. and i got a C on a quiz last week_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: uff-da_

_Pidgey_0413: yeah_

_Pidgey_0413: i’m not doing very well in that class_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: not to tell you what to do, but it sounds like you should find a way to focus on your homework so the xbox is less distracting_

_Pidgey_0413: i know, i’m trying. it’s only been a few weeks so far, ill get it together_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: good, i believe in you!!_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: and you should talk to hunk about this_

_Say what?_  Pidge bristled instantly, though she wasn’t sure why.

_Pidgey_0413: he doesn’t need to know my grades_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: what_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: no i mean about you missing him_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: expecting him to always be there_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: if your having a hard time without him you should talk to him about it_

_Pidgey_0413: i don’t see how that will help_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: you should talk to him, pidge._

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: he’s your best friend. and talking is good._

_Pidgey_0413: sure_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: please?_

_Pidgey_0413: maybe_

_Pidgey_0413: he’s working hard at school too i don’t want to throw this at him_

_Pidgey_0413: im just getting used to things itll be fine_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: ok_

_Pidgey_0413: anyway i gotta go now._

She didn’t have to go yet, she still had 45 minutes until he was supposed to call, but she’d had enough of Matt needling her about her love life.  Or lack thereof.

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: ok_

_GraySkiesXxStarEyes: ttyl_

_Pidgey_0413: bye_

Pidge watched the screen for a minute, then set her status to away.  If she was going to lie to Matt, she should at least put up a believable facade.

 

Hunk called right on time, and Pidge tried not to feel the heaviness of her heart as they chatted.  She couldn’t stop thinking about what Matt had said, about how he was _right_ but she so desperately didn’t want to bring it up with Hunk.  Talking to him was so nice, it was the time she felt the best, she couldn’t possibly bring this baggage into it.

But then he brought up the holidays, and when they would see each other again.  Thanksgiving was so far away, and suddenly the pain was too much to keep inside.

“I wish we didn’t have to wait so long,” Pidge said, and her voice broke.  “I just... I miss you so much. I miss talking to you, I miss seeing you, I miss knowing that you’ll always be there for me.”

Hunk was quiet for a moment.  “You know I’m always here for you.”

There were actual tears rolling down her cheeks as she hunched over the desk, hiding her face in her hands.  “I know, but ... you’re not _here_ . I can’t get a hug when I’ve had a hard day, or a kiss when I’m overwhelmed with loving you. I need to be able to touch you and I _can’t_ when you’re far away.”

He made a noise that sounded horribly distressed, but it stopped as soon as it started.  “I know.”

Pidge shuddered, and struggled to breathe.  There was silence down the line for a long minute before she found her voice, though it was croaky.  “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”  He took a breath.  “It was me who decided not to go to Tech with you.”

She shook her head.  “It was the right choice.”

“I’m not so sure.”

Tears choked Pidge again, and she pressed her hand to her mouth, trying not to let it out.  She couldn’t let him hear how bad she had it, how much she felt like them splitting up was the worst decision anyone had ever made.

He sighed deeply.  “Well, not a lot we can do about it now.”

Pidge swallowed as hard as she could, then again, and tried to breathe.  “Yeah.”

 

The end of September brought Family Weekend and Michigan Tech.  Pidge tried to talk it up to Hunk, see if he would be able to come and see her, but he’d been scheduled to work and couldn’t trade shifts with anyone -- not without it getting in the way of his classes.  As much as Pidge selfishly hated that he wouldn’t make the sacrifice, she understood, and she couldn’t really hold it against him.

Seeing her parents was surreal.  The six weeks she’d been in Houghton was the longest she’d ever been away from them, and their arrival was an odd amalgamation of returning to the familiar with a breaking of the new normal.  But at least it seemed weird for everyone, and the change of routine seemed to give her a little extra energy that had been missing from her life.

It still kind of felt _wrong_ , though, and it took her the better part of the first afternoon to put her finger on why, at which point she felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.  And it was because her parents were _home_ , but _home_ also included Hunk, who was -- to her view -- conspicuously absent.  Like he had been conspicuously absent from every day here so far, but something about Sam and Colleen seemed to underscore it.

She tried to distract herself from the feeling as soon as she identified it.  There were activities, and dinner, and then more activities before the parents faded back to their hotels and the Friday night campus night life picked up.  Pidge let Shay take her to a party, and didn’t even put up a fight. And it was fun enough, she was social with people she didn’t know and one or two from class, and when she got back to her room she was too exhausted to spend time missing Hunk before she fell asleep.

The next day was full again, and even though Pidge had homework she left it in her backpack in favor of socializing.  The long day started catching up to her when they slowed down for dinner in the cafe, and Shay and her parents and brothers left them in favor of another option.

Pidge and her mother chose a table while Sam waited for their food, and Pidge felt like melting into the chair.

“You okay there?”

Why did she always have to be such a mom?  “Yeah, okay. Big day, is all.”

“Were you up late last night?”

“Not super late.  Later than you.”

Colleen smiled.  “I imagine so.” She glanced over at Sam, who was still waiting, and fidgeted with her fingers.  “So, we … I haven’t really had a chance to ask you how things are going so far.”

Pidge shrugged, trying very hard to stay casual.  She didn’t have the energy to keep up a smiling face if things got heavy.  “Things are good. Shay is great, which is a plus. I know some people who hate their roommates.”

“And classes?”

“About what I expected.  All intro-level stuff.”

Colleen smirked.  “Boring?”

Pidge couldn’t help the little smile that crept onto her face.  “Yeah, some of them. Some are kind of hard, though.”

“That’s good.  What you came here for.”

“Yeah.”

The kid behind the counter called their number, and Sam gathered three baskets of fried food and joined them.  “Soup’s on.”

Pidge knew her cheeseburger would be too hot, but she took an enormous bite of it anyway and it burned the roof of her mouth.  But it was exactly as greasy and salty as she wanted, and she didn’t slow down until it was half gone.

Dad was watching her when she came up for air.  “I guess you like the food here.”

She giggled nervously.  “Yeah. They feed us well.”

“You in any clubs?”

“Kinda.  Shay roped me into a Dungeons and Dragons campaign that’s still going.”

“What about that thing for freshmen?” Mom said.  “First year experience or something?”

“Yeah,” Pidge said, trying to muster enthusiasm for it that she didn’t really have.  “I mean, there are always a lot of activities. I get to the ones I can and I’m meeting people.”

“That’s great,” Dad said.  “I know I’m still friends with people I met first year of college.  Not so much high school.”

Pidge tensed, and Mom picked up on it immediately, and then there was the elephant in the room, the one topic none of them had brought up in any of their communication so far.

Dad’s voice was quieter when he spoke.  “How’s Hunk?”

There it was.  Pidge tried to swallow around the lump in her throat, and she couldn’t look at him.  “He’s good. We still talk pretty frequently.”

“I’ve seen him at Sendik’s a few times,” Mom said.  “He’s keeping busy, still working there while he’s in school.”

Pidge nodded, staring down the last bites of her burger.  “Yeah, well, you know. Tuition is expensive.”

Dad folded his arms and leaned his elbows on the table.  “How are things with him?”

Pidge’s facade cracked.  “I … I don’t really know.  We … I mean, we talk a lot, but I feel … I don’t know.”  Her eyes were leaking, and she didn’t want this to happen _at all_.  She wiped her face with her sleeve, and her parents were quiet, watching with sympathetic faces.  She took a few shuddering breaths. “I just … it’s so weird not having him here. Like, we talk a lot, but less than we used to, and I … I just didn’t expect it to still hurt so much.”

Her parents exchanged a look.  “Long-distance relationships are hard,” Mom said.

“No kidding.  I thought it would get easier but it’s only getting worse.”

“Give it time,” Dad said.  “It’s only been six weeks. You’ll figure out what works for you.”

Pidge shook her head -- she felt like she’d given it every ounce of her patience, every ounce of her tenacity, and it still wasn’t enough.  “I just … I feel so _empty_ all the time.  And even when we talk it’s not like how we used to be, it’s like … I feel like I’m _cold_ with him.  And I feel like going away, like splitting us up like this … was a terrible choice.  It’s like I lost a part of myself, I’m not me anymore.”

“Sweetheart.”  Mom put her arm around Pidge’s back, and Pidge tried to lean into her touch, but it was awkward.

“Sorry,” she sniffled.  “I didn’t mean to … yeah.”

“Have you talked to anyone about this?”

She shook her head.  “No.”

Dad leaned forward again.  “Not even Hunk?”

“God, no.”  She wiped her face again.  “He’s so busy. I couldn’t put this on him.”  She took a shuddering breath. “I’ll be okay. Like you said, it hasn’t been that long yet.  We’ll figure it out.”

Her parents sat back, apparently satisfied, but Pidge ached: she didn’t believe it at all.  Her relationship with her best friend was falling apart around her and she didn’t know what to do.  It was hopeless. She would keep trying, even though it felt absolutely pointless, because the only alternative was to give up.

And as much as it hurt, she loved him too much to give up.  It was all she had.


	11. Everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Michelle Branch - Everywhere](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HLCasyAh7ic)
> 
>  
> 
> If you don't want to read the smut, click the aleph א when you get to it and AO3 will skip you to when it's (mostly) SFW again.

_‘Cuz you’re everywhere to me_   
_When I close my eyes it’s you I see_   
_You’re everything I know that makes me believe_   
_I’m not alone  
I’m not alone_

 

The morning sucked.  Studying sucked, and Pidge hated it, but her grades were really beginning to slip and as much as she was feeling very negative about anything, there was a bit of her that clung to the reason she’d tried so hard to come here in the first place.  So from now on, starting today, Saturday mornings she had a date with her homework in the library.

Shay seemed to be pleased about this change of pace, though she didn’t say so in as many words.  But she was clearly delighted to drag Pidge to breakfast when she got back from her early ergs, and Pidge found herself actually not that annoyed by the rowers.  They were loud and outgoing, which wasn’t her favorite thing right after waking up, but they were good people and they helped her wake up.

After she’d eaten she stopped back in her room just long enough to pack her things into her backpack, and then she set out for the library.

And it sucked.  But not as much as she’d feared, and she got her work nearly done and it actually almost felt good to be on top of things.  It passed the hours, and even though she was watching the clock, one in the afternoon arrived without too much trouble.

Pidge had only just perched on a picnic table outside the library when her cell phone rang, and she pulled it out of the pocket of her sweatshirt and smiled to herself as she flipped it open.  “Hey, man. Right on time.”

Hunk’s laugh was weak and flat through the phone but she loved it all the same.  “When have I ever not called you at one o’clock when I said I’d call at one o’clock?”

“I mean, never, but I still appreciate your punctuality.  So you just got off work?”

“Well, um.”  He hesitated, and something about it made her nervous.  “I’m actually in front of Wadsworth Hall.”

Her heart stopped.  “What?”

“Wadsworth.  That’s your dorm, right?”

“Yes, but what the fuck? You’re _here_?”

“Yup.  I’m at what I think is the main entrance, the part with all the glass by that parking lot.  Is that close to your room?”

“No, but -- I’m not in my room, I’m at the library.  Or, I just left the library.”

“Oh.  I mean, it’s just I had this whole dramatic thing planned, but it’s not quite gonna work if you’re not here.”

She un-froze all at once and jumped to her feet.  “Don’t move, don’t _fucking_ move, I’m five minutes away.”  She took off running, and it was hard to keep the phone up to her ear while she was doing it but she wasn’t going to lose her connection to Hunk until she knew for sure this wasn’t a joke, or a prank, or.…

“Pidge, are you running?”

“Of course I’m fucking running.”  The cold air was already burning her lungs, she was so out of shape….

“You don’t have to, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Nope, wrong.  I _do_ have to.”  She would die if she slowed down.  Hunk was here and every moment that she wasn’t sprinting for her life was another moment that she _wasn’t with him_.

“I could meet you halfway?”

“You don’t know the campus.”  She had to gasp for breath. “Just stay there, I know where you are, I’ll be _right there_.”

“Okay, okay.  I’m staying here.”

This was horrible, it was _horrible_ but she had to do it.  “Keep talking to me.” God, she was really going to need her inhaler as soon as she could stop.  This was going to be a hell of an asthma attack.

“Oh.  Um, what should I talk about?”

“Don’t care.  Anything. Just stay on the line.”

“Okay.  Um … we stopped for breakfast at this diner outside Green Bay.  It was pretty shitty.”

“Green Bay’s a long way from home.”

“Yeah, but we left super early.  Just had cereal and coffee at home before we hit the road, so we were hungry again in two hours.”

“We?”

“My mom came too.  She went to get lunch though, she’s not with me right now.”

“Makes sense.  Tell me about the diner?”

Hunk laughed, and Pidge felt like she was flying, despite the rhythmic beating of her textbooks on her back and the growing burn in her chest.  “Oh man, it was pretty bad,” Hunk said. “And like, not because it was actually all that bad, but it had tons of promise that it totally failed to live up to, you know?  Parts of it were great, like the coffee, and they had this homemade jam for the toast that was really something. But the eggs were all rubbery and shit, and the bacon was burned.  Mom had oatmeal and said it was definitely overcooked and watery quick oats, but with their amazing jam on top. Plus the plates weren’t hot, which is just lazy.”

Pidge tried to laugh, but it just came out as a barking cough.  “That sucks.”

“Are you okay?”

“My asthma is trying to kill me.  It’s fine.”

“Pidge, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I don’t _care_.”  Seeing him was the only thing she cared about.  “Keep talking.”

He grasped for a topic and settled on all the billboards for strip clubs that they had passed on the drive, and Pidge covered the half mile between the library and her dorm faster than she ever had.  Traffic was in her favor and she didn’t have to wait to cross the street -- she could _see him,_ right there in front of the building.  He was looking up at the brick, one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other holding the phone to his ear.

“Turn around,” she gasped.

He spun towards her and dropped the phone from his face.  “Pidge!”

She flipped her phone shut and stuffed it in her hoodie pocket and put everything she had into sprinting the last twenty or so yards, then threw herself at him.  He caught her, spun her around, holding as tight around her back as her arms were around his neck. When her feet hit the ground again the tears burst out of her, and she couldn’t breathe and her face hurt from the cold wind but Hunk was _here_ , he was holding her, everything in the world was where it ought to be.

A little bit of her mind remained detached, and it told her she was being hysterical, that if she stopped and backed off she could go inside and use her albuterol and actually be able to take a breath.  But she couldn’t do it, she just couldn’t, because Hunk was holding her and it was all she had wanted for _months_ and stopping was unthinkable.  Her head was spinning and time was going all squiggly but Hunk was here, and he smelled like himself and she’d imagined smelling him for weeks and weeks and here he really was, in the flesh, his cheek pressing against hers and his hair flopping against her face as the wind blustered around them.

After some unquantifiable time his embrace relaxed, he set her fully on her feet and put his hands on the sides of her face, wiping at her tears with his thumbs.  “You look like shit.”

She nodded; her breath was a reedy wheeze as she hiccuped through her tears and she felt more than a little like she was dying.  “I need my inhaler.”

“Is it inside?”

“Yeah.”  She coughed, and it was agony and didn’t do anything.  “Come on.”

She took his hand and led the way, despite her shaking, exhausted legs.  Luckily her room was only on the second floor, even if it was in the other wing of the building, and when she finally got in she dropped her backpack, took a puff of her inhaler, and sat heavily on the bed.  She wiped at her eyes, smearing her tears on the sleeve of her sweatshirt while she held the medicine in her lungs.

Hunk stood awkwardly just inside the door, looking around at all of the stuff.  Shay and Pidge didn’t keep their room at all tidy, and they hadn’t known they’d have a guest, so Shay’s rowing gear was draped all over her wardrobe and Pidge had a small pile of dirty laundry next to her over-full basket.  She couldn’t bring herself to feel self-conscious about it, and Shay had a severely underdeveloped sense of TMI so she definitely wouldn’t mind Hunk getting an eyeful of her sports bras.

Pidge let out her breath, and gave in to a deep cough that finally started to open her chest back up, even though it was painful and tasted nasty.  “So, uh, welcome to my room. You can come all the way in.”

He took another couple of steps, and pushed the door most of the way shut behind him.  “Where’s Shay?”

Pidge shrugged.  “Don’t know. We had breakfast together and then I went to the library while she was showering.”  She patted the bed. “Come sit down, stay a while.”

While she took another hit of the inhaler he took off his jacket and scarf and hung them on the doorknob, then tentatively crossed the room and sat beside her, though he clearly wasn’t relaxed yet.  He had to duck a little to fit under the bunk. “How’s your lungs?”

She let out her breath.  “Not as bad now.” She coughed again.  “I think I’ll pull through.”

He laughed, a little chuckle that seemed to catch him off-guard and now that Pidge wasn’t dying she was overwhelmed with how much she loved him.

She reached up and touched his cheek -- still cold from standing outside -- and pulled him down and kissed him as hard as she could.  And it was _weird_ , it was familiar and foreign at the same time.  But then he shifted, turned towards her, wrapped his arms around her waist and made a little _mmm_ noise as he deepened the kiss and any sense of weird was just gone, it was never there.  This was her Hunk, this was her best friend, the guy she loved, and everything was as it had always been between them.

He kissed her and kissed her and she was about to pull him over on top of her when he drew back, panting, his fingertips brushing her cheek.

“Hi,” she murmured, and he breathed a little laugh.

“Hello.”

Her stomach grumbled then, and Hunk sat back with a slightly-louder laugh.  “Lunch time?”

“Must be.  You hungry?”

“Yeah.  I was hoping you’d want to grab something to eat when I got here.”

“Well, you’re in luck.  Want to just go to the dining hall?  I’ve got plenty of guest meals on my card to cover you while you’re here.”

“Sure.”  He leaned in and gave her another kiss.  “Can I use your bathroom first?”

Pidge grinned.  “Go ahead.”

 

In the dining hall they ran into some guys that Pidge knew from D&D club, and she felt more than a little giddy as she introduced them to Hunk and saw the looks on their faces when they realized that the legendary boyfriend called _Hunk_ was a real person.  By the time they’d finished eating their brunch together, Ajay had already made the “hunka-hunka-burning love” joke twice, and Brad was threatening to kill his character in their next session.  Hunk was clearly intrigued by their game, but for some reason Pidge found herself shy when she asked about her character. Luckily the guys were a hundred percent ready to embarrass her, and told Hunk all about Meklevar the dwarf barbarian.  As they talked he watched her with a teasing glint in his eye and a fond smile on his lips, and Pidge felt warm all over and tried not to wish that it could be like this every day.

When Hunk had finished eating he put his arm around the back of Pidge’s chair, stroking her shoulder as he sipped his cup of coffee and laughed with her friends.  And his touch was absolutely the only thing she could think about, it was the only thing she’d wanted since August and now that there was food in her belly she wasn’t going to let her buddies take up any more of the one day she had with Hunk.  So she made some excuses, which were clearly transparent, and they said goodbye, and she took the stairs back to her room faster than she ever had, with Hunk right on her heels.

She opened the door and grabbed a marker, and scribbled on the whiteboard and hoped like fuck that Shay would actually read it when she got back: _Shay knock first HUNK IS HERE_

“No sock on the doorknob?” Hunk asked, breathless.

“This isn’t a movie.”  Pidge’s hand was shaking as she wrote.

“It’ll get her attention, though.”

Pidge capped the marker.  “Shit, you’re right. Um.”  She dove for her dirty laundry, pulled a dingy white sock out and slipped it over the knob, then all but slammed the door.  “Okay. Take off my clothes now?” א

She didn’t need to ask him twice, and he was on her in an instant, kissing like he needed her to live while he unbuttoned her jeans.  Pidge broke away long enough to kick off her shoes and pull off her sweatshirt and t-shirt in one movement, though it took her glasses with so she had to take a moment to rescue them and put them on her desk.  Hunk got his shirt off and threw it on her chair, and then she went for his pants, opened the button and the zipper and pushed them down over his ass before she palmed his swelling erection through the front of his underpants.

He slid his arms around her waist, kissing her again as he fumbled with the clasp on the back of her bra.  But he got it open, pulled the straps off her shoulders and then palmed one breast while he slid his tongue into her mouth.  He tasted like coffee and potatoes and it was heaven.

Pidge moaned loudly, and didn’t spare even an entire thought for her neighbors.   _You can be as loud as the hell you want when you’re making love,_ right?  She grabbed Hunk’s hips and spun them around so she could flop backwards onto the bed, though she wasn’t successful in pulling him on top of her.

“Lemme get my pants off,” he gasped, shimmying them all the way down his legs.

Pidge stripped her jeans off as fast as she could, and once she’d kicked them across the room Hunk ducked under the bunk and was on her again, this time nuzzling her belly, his breath hot on her skin as he hooked his fingers in the elastic of her panties and pulled them down her thighs.  His hair tickled her skin as he spread her legs and bent low over her.

“Can I?”

“Yes.”  She felt like she was crying and then his lips pressed to her pussy, kissing and licking, and she did cry out then, from the overwhelming pleasure, the immense _relief_ of it all.

But he didn’t stay there for long, he pushed himself back up and hopped off the bed, looking around the room.  “I brought condoms, where are my pants?”

Pidge shook her head, dizzy.  She was completely naked on her back, half-boneless, and he was only remembering the condoms now?  Or, well … she still had her socks on. “I don’t know. And I’m still on the pill.”

“All the same.”  He found his pants, and pulled a strip of condoms out of his wallet.  It was almost funny, watching him stand there in the middle of her room, his erection straining against his briefs while he fumbled to tear off one condom from the rest.  But he got it, and so she sat up and pulled his underwear down to his knees while he got the packet open.

His cock was just as she remembered, just as she had grown used to imagining in the private moments she managed to snatch.  She didn’t know how it could possibly have changed, except that there was a part of her that thought it might have. But it was exactly the same when she wrapped her hand around it, he made that same breathy grunt he always made, and then she let him push her hands gently aside so he could put the sheath on.

And then he pushed her back into the cave of her bed and loomed over her and covered her with himself again, kissing and squeezing, and she wrapped her legs around him and groaned as he ground against her.  He caught her lips again, swallowing the sound, and she couldn’t wait any longer.

She reached down between them and lined him up and he thrust inside and _holy fuck did that hurt_.  “Ow! Wait!”

He pulled out immediately and lifted up off her with a startled sound.  “Oh my god, did I hurt you?”

“Yeah, sorry, I wasn’t ready for that much yet,” she gasped.  “I guess I need to take it kinda slow.”

“Fuck, Pidge, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”  She put both hands on his cheeks and kissed him deeply, wrapping her legs around the backs of his knees.  “I want you so much, I just need a minute.”

“Okay.”  He lowered his weight on her again, and his cock rubbed against her entrance without penetrating.  It was infuriating, but what could she do?

“What if,” he murmured, pulling his mouth off hers just enough.  “What if I went down on you again?”

Her breath caught in her chest.  “You could do that.”

He kissed her lips once more, long and hard, then trailed his mouth down her neck, and dropped quick kisses on her breasts and belly before he spread her thighs and pressed his tongue right into her center.

And it felt … different.  Kind of strange. Was it just because she’d already come?  Or was he doing it differently? Pidge didn’t know, and she was too distracted by it to actually enjoy Hunk’s attention, so she pulled her knees together, pushing him away.

“No?” he panted, and she shook her head.

“Let’s just do it,” she said, pulling him towards her, and he crawled on top again, but his motions were less desperate.

When he pushed into her again it was still uncomfortable, but he took it more slowly, and after a minute of gentle progress he was pressed fully inside her.

And Pidge didn’t know what to feel.  Again, it was … kind of odd. Almost like Hunk was a stranger, though of course he wasn’t.  This was exactly what she had wanted for weeks and weeks and weeks, wasn’t it? So why wasn’t it how she remembered?

Hunk rolled his hips and groaned, pressing his face into her shoulder.  “Nngh, Pidge….”

She wrapped her arms around his back, digging her fingers into his flesh -- maybe if she held on tight enough he’d pull her back down to the ground, get her out of this weird floaty space where none of this felt real.

His motion tipped over into uncoordinated and jerky; she wondered if he was close.  She wasn’t going to come again, that much was certain. He was inside her, and she supposed it felt pretty good, but it also felt like it wasn’t going anywhere.

So she waited, moving herself around just enough to stay engaged in the action, and as her hips started to ache he gasped, and then he groaned, and she held him even tighter as he came inside her.

 

They lay together quietly for a long time, and the relief that Hunk had first felt was fading away, leaving behind a sensation of awkwardness.  The sex had been fine, but he’d felt a little weird about it, and Pidge had seemed somewhat distant. Not that he’d been paying much attention to her, he’d been so consumed by animal lust that the whole thing was just sort of a testosterone haze.  But now when his brain was working again, he was piecing together that none of this felt how he’d expected.

Pidge’s face was turned away from him, and he ran his hand slowly over her side.  “You okay?”

She sighed.  “Yeah.”

Hunk definitely didn’t believe that, but he wasn’t going to press and ruin the mood.  The whole point of coming here was to have a little spot of happiness together again.

He wasn’t exactly happy at the moment, though.  He felt anxious, twitchy, like he needed to do something to fix the mood but he didn’t know what and he was afraid of annoying Pidge when she was … however she was.

He removed his arm from around her body and sat up, scooting around her over to the edge of the bed.  “I’m gonna get dressed.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

He stood up and looked around the room -- it was already a mess when he got there, and he’d undressed so hurriedly that he didn’t know where his clothes had ended up.  Plus now he was feeling awkward about his nakedness, and his anxiety was spiking, which didn’t help the focus.

But he found his pants, and then his underwear and his shirt, and draped them on Pidge’s chair while he worked out how to get them on.

Pidge shifted on her mattress.  “Have you lost weight?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her.  “Yeah, a bit.”

“Like, on purpose, or..?”

He had to look away from her again.  “No. I -- I’ve been pretty sick since you left.”

He heard her sit up on her bed, and he kept his back turned, tried to put all his attention on putting his pants back on.

“Hunk, what aren’t you telling me?”

And it was like a switch flipped inside him, from defensive to angry, and he turned around.  “What about you? I’ve been sick because I was so upset about not being with you, but you’ve gained weight.”

Her mouth fell open in shock.  “I _what?_ ”

He shouldn’t be saying this, but he was doing it anyway.  He grabbed his shirt off the chair. “You know you have. It’s obvious.”

“Of course I know I have, it’s called the freshman fifteen.  I just … I put it on all at once instead of over the year.”

He didn’t want to be angry at her, he didn’t want to be _scowling_ , but he couldn’t stop the sarcastic retort.  “So you’ve been doing okay.”

“I have _not_ been okay!”  She gathered the blanket in front of her, covering her body in a rush of distress.  “Hunk, I’m _depressed_.  I barely have any friends because none of them are you, and I’m eating all kinds of crap to try and fill the hole you left inside me because being empty hurts _too fucking much._ ”

Her words were a dagger, flung straight into his heart with even worse pain than the weeks that they’d been apart.   _He hurt her, he hurt her, he hurt her---_   

He looked down at his bare toes, standing on the shag carpet that he knew her roommate had brought, and tried to will himself not to feel nauseated.  Of course she hadn’t experienced the pain of their separation the same way that he had, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt her just as badly. “I … I didn’t think--”

“I had no idea I could gain weight this fast,” she said softly.  “Seriously, twelve pounds in two months.  I know it doesn’t look like much because I was so skinny to start, but like … nothing fits any more.  I know this isn’t healthy. But I can’t make it stop.” She heaved a breath. “I didn’t -- want to tell you.  I didn’t want to upset you.”

He realized that he was crying.  “Pidge--”

“I’m sorry.”  The sound of it ripped out of her, broken and raw.  “I should -- I should have said something. So you knew I was having a hard time too.  But I didn’t want to … you know. I didn’t want you to think it was your fault. To feel bad, to get distracted from school.”

“I have straight A’s,” he said, but it felt like it was someone else who said it, someone far away.  His face was getting wetter and wetter and it was becoming difficult to breathe. “All I do is work.”

“I do all my homework at the last minute.”

He laughed, and it felt horrible.  “You’ve always been like that.”

She shook her head, a miserable expression on her face.  “I didn’t want it to be like that in college. And I’m not good at it here, I have a C average so far.  I missed a calculus problem set completely. I got a zero.”

Oh holy _shit_ , that was not the Pidge he knew at all.  “Oh my god.”

She pulled her knees to her chest, curling into a ball against the wall.  “Yeah. And it’s not because it’s hard, it’s just that I can’t make myself do it until it’s almost too late.”

The few feet between them was way, _way_ too much.  He stepped to her, sat on the bed, pulled her into his embrace, and she melted against him.  “Pidge, I wish I’d known.”

“I wish I’d known you were sick.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”  She wrapped her arms around his back, digging her fingers into his flesh.  “No more secrets between us. Not even bad things.”

“I promise.”  He had to choke it out, through the sudden onslaught of tears.  “I swear to god.”


End file.
